There is at least this to be said for mind, that it can dispel mind. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up for her all my life. — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
There is this to be said for Dachsunds of such length and lowness as Nelly, that it makes very little difference to… — 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
I've tried not to exaggerate the glory of athletes. I'd rather, if I could, preserve a sense of proportion, to write about… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
...you must say words, as long as there are any, until they find me, until they say me, strange pain, strange sin,… — 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
