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Reality, whether approached imaginatively or empirically, remains a surface, hermetic.

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
Empirically
Approached
Skepticism
Realism
Surface
Remains
Whether
Hermetic
Reality
Imaginatively

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I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
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To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
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What kind of country is this where a woman can't weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
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Not to want to say, not to know what you want to say, not to be able to say what you think you want to say, and never to stop saying, or hardly ever, that is the thing to keep in mind, even in the heat of composition.
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Words are all we have.
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I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of — how shall I say, I don’t know.
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Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
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Yesterday is not a milestone that has been passed, but a daystone on the beaten track of the years, and irremediably part of us, within us, heavy and dangerous. We are not merely more weary because of yesterday, we are other, no longer what we were before the calamity of yesterday.
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It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
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When the object is perceived as particular and unique and not merely the member of a family, when it appears independent of any general notion and detached from the sanity of a cause, isolated and inexplicable in the light of ignorance, then and only then may it be a source of enchantment.
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It sometimes happens and will sometimes happen again that I forget who I am and strut before my eyes, like a stranger.
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An imaginative adventure does not enjoy the same corsets as reportage.
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Yes, light, there is no other word for it.
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Dublin university contains the cream of Ireland: Rich and thick.
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We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
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God is love. Yes or no? No.
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They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
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Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
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