I still smile it's not worth the trouble any more for a long time now it's not been worth the trouble the… — 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
What I assert, deny, question, in the present, I still can. But mostly I shall use the various tenses of the past.… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that… Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh,… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
My life, my life, now I speak of it as of something over, now as of a joke which still goes on,… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
The essential is never to arrive anywhere, never to be anywhere. The essential is to go on squirming forever at the edge… — 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
