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But it seems impossible to speak and yet say nothing, you think you have succeeded, but you always overlook something.
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
Impossible
Speak
Seems
Nothing
Something
Always
Think
Overlook
Thinking
Succeeded
More quotes by Samuel Beckett
I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.
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Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
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To be an artist is to fail, as no other dare fail, that failure is his world and the shrink from desertion, art and craft, good housekeeping, living.
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How hideous is the semicolon.
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I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.
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Birth was the death of him.
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The only thing you must never speak of is your happiness.
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We all are born mad. Some remain so.
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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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Estragon: Nothing to be done.
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To him who has nothing it is forbidden not to relish filth.
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For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.
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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.
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It was the only way to progress, to stop.
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Absolute virtue is as sure to kill a man as absolute vice is, let alone the dullness of it and the pomposities of it.
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Enough to know no knowing.
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Unfathomable mind, now beacon, now sea.
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Light black. From pole to pole.
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It's a rare thing not to have been bonny-- once.
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There is this to be said for Dachsunds of such length and lowness as Nelly, that it makes very little difference to their appearance whether they stand, sit or lie.
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