I did not want to write, but I had to resign myself to it in the end. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of — how shall I… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
But I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
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
The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The fact is, it seems, that the most you can hope is to be a little less, in the end, the creature… — 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
She felt, as she felt so often with Murphy, spattered with words that went dead as soon as they sounded; each word… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Personally of course I regret everything. Not a word, not a deed, not a thought, not a need, not a grief, not… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The essential is to go on squirming forever at the end of the line, as long as there are waters and banks… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
...and a dream away in space with neither her nor there where all the footsteps ever fell can never fare nearer to… — 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
