I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“There's my life, why not, it is one, if you like, if you must, I don't say no, this evening. There has… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The confusion is not my invention. We cannot listen to a conversation for five minutes without being aware of the confusion. It… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The search for the means to put an end to things, an end to speech, is what enables the discourse to continue. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“Though now even less than ever given to wonder he cannot but sometimes wonder if it is indeed to and of him… — 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
