“But he had turned, little by little, a disturbance into words, he had made a pillow of old words, for his head.” — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll wake, in the silence, and never sleep… — Samuel Beckett Copy Share Image
“I'm all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing,… — 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
