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All that is active, all that is enveloped in time and space, is endowed with what might be described as an abstract, ideal and absolute impermeability.
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
Reality
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Might
Ideal
Time
Abstract
Absolutes
Absolute
Enveloped
Active
Endowed
Ideals
Skepticism
Space
Realism
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
Make sense who may. I switch off.
Samuel Beckett
No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
Samuel Beckett
Words fail, there are times when even they fail.
Samuel Beckett
It's a lot to ask of one creature, it's a lot to ask, that he should first behave as if he were not, then as if he were, before being admitted to that peace where he neither is, nor is not, and where the language dies that permits of such expressions.
Samuel Beckett
The only sin is the sin of being born.
Samuel Beckett
I gave up before birth.
Samuel Beckett
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!
Samuel Beckett
That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.
Samuel Beckett
I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark.
Samuel Beckett
And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it is wept.
Samuel Beckett
To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.
Samuel Beckett
I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
Samuel Beckett
Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end he remembers the exact spot in the garden and the kind of life he led there before joining the family circle.
Samuel Beckett
Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence.
Samuel Beckett
That penny farthing hell you call your mind
Samuel Beckett
To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.
Samuel Beckett
I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
Samuel Beckett
No painting is more replete than Mondrian's.
Samuel Beckett
What do I know of man's destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.
Samuel Beckett
We all are born mad. Some remain so.
Samuel Beckett
