It is useless not to seek, not to want, for when you cease to seek you start to find, and when you… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“CLOV: Do you believe in the life to come? HAMM: Mine was always that.” — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“The old thing where it always was, back again. As when a man, having found at last what he sought, a woman,… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
That's the mistake I made, one of the mistakes, to have wanted a story for myself, whereas life alone is enough. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I hope I am not too old to take it up seriously, nor too stupid about machines to qualify as a commercial… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
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
[T]he syndrome known as life is too diffuse to admit of palliation. For every symptom that is eased, another is made worse.… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“Ada: And why life? (Pause.) Why life, Henry? (Pause.) Is there anyone about? Henry: Not a living soul. Ada: I thought as… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
He brings light, as only the great dare to bring light, to the issueless predicament of existence. — 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
“All is ready. Except me. I am being given, if I may venture the expression, birth to into death, such is my… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“It took me a long time, my lifetime so to speak, to realise that the colour of an eye half seen, or… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“But we know that we are no longer the same, and not only know that we are no longer the same, but… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“But even them, my pains, I understand ill. That must come from my not being all pain and nothing else. There's the… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“I don't know when I died. It always seemed to me I died old, about ninety years old, and what years, and… — 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
“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