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My work is a matter of fundamental sounds (no joke intended) made as fully as possible, and I accept responsibility for nothing else. If people want to have headaches among the overtones, let them. And provide their own aspirin.
Samuel Beckett
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Samuel Beckett
Age: 83 †
Born: 1906
Born: April 13
Died: 1989
Died: December 22
Artist
Author
Cricketer
Film Director
French Resistance Fighter
Intellectual
Linguist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Teacher
Dublin city
Samuel Barclay Beckett
Andrew Belis
Sam Beckett
Sa-miao-erh Pei-kʻo-tʻe
Samuel Beḳeṭ
Work
Accepting
Fundamentals
Made
Responsibility
Provide
Overtones
People
Possible
Sounds
Headaches
Literature
Fully
Aspirin
Sound
Jokes
Headache
Else
Criticism
Intended
Nothing
Accept
Joke
Matter
Among
Fundamental
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Better hope deferred than none.
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How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life.
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Estragon: I can't go on like this. Vladimir: That's what you think.
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No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
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To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
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How hideous is the semicolon.
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Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.
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I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
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We always find something, eh Didi, to let us think we exist?
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VLADIMIR: What do they say? ESTRAGON: They talk about their lives. VLADIMIR: To have lived is not enough for them. ESTRAGON: They have to talk about it.
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I had seen faces in photographs I might have found beautiful had I known even vaguely in what beauty was supposed to consist. And my father's face, on his death-bolster, had seemed to hint at some form of aesthetics relevant to man. But the faces of the living, all grimace and flush, can they be described as objects?
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The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
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No painting is more replete than Mondrian's.
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What goes by the name of love is banishment, with now and then a postcard from the homeland, such is my considered opinion, this evening.
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Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough for you.
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Birth was the death of him.
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Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
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The only thing you must never speak of is your happiness.
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To-morrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day?
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Habit is a compromise effected between an individual and his environment.
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