All this business of a labour to accomplish, before I can end, of words to say, a truth to recover, in order… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“In order to be company he must display a certain mental activity. But it need not be of a high order. Indeed… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
You would do better, at least no worse, to obliterate texts than to blacken margins, to fill in the holes of words… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“He speaks of himself as of another. Himself he devises too for company. Leave it at that. Confusion too is company up… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“And once again I am I will not say alone, no, that's not like me, but, how shall I say, I don't… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“It was December, I had never felt so cold, the eel soup lay heavy on my stomach, I was afraid I'd die, I turned… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“You may say it is all in my head, and indeed sometimes it seems to me I am in a head and that these… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“Here he stood. Here he sat. Here he knelt. Here he lay. Here he moved, to and fro, from the door to the window,… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
It is useless not to seek, not to want, for when you cease to seek you start to find, and when you cease to… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much? — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The new light above my table is a great improvement. With all this darkness around me I feel less alone. (Pause.) In a way.… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
