Success and failure on the public level never mattered much to me, in fact I feel more at home with the latter,… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place,… — 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
in reality we are one and all from the unthinkable first to the no less unthinkable last glued together in a vast… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
My notes have a curious tendency, as I realize at last, to annihilate all they purport to record. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most — 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
