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Love requited is a short circuit.
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
Requited
Circuit
Circuits
Affection
Short
Love
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
I gave up before birth.
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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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It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.
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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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All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
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Over, over, there is a soft place in my heart for all that is over, no, for the being over, words have been my only loves, not many.
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There is at least this to be said for mind, that it can dispel mind.
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In the landscape of extinction, precision is next to godliness.
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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.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.' You won't believe what you can accomplish by attempting the impossible with the courage to repeatedly fail better.
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I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.
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The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.
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[T]he syndrome known as life is too diffuse to admit of palliation. For every symptom that is eased, another is made worse. The horse leech's daughter is a closed system. Her quantum of wantum cannot vary.
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Hold the old holding hand. Hold and be held. Plod on and never recede. Slowly with never a pause plod on and never recede.
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The short winter’s day was drawing to a close. It seems to me sometimes that these are the only days I have ever known, and especially that most charming moment of all, just before night wipes them out.
Samuel Beckett
I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.
Samuel Beckett
The time is perhaps not altogether too green for the vile suggestion that art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear, and more than the light of day (or night) makes the subsolar, -lunar, and -stellar excrement. Art is the sun, moon, and stars of the mind, the whole mind.
Samuel Beckett
We are all born crazy. Some remain that way.
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.
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What are we doing here, that is the question.
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