Samuel Beckett
Samuel Beckett
Samuel Barclay Beckettwas a French-Irish avant-garde novelist, playwright, theatre director, and poet, who lived in Paris for most of his adult life and wrote in both English and French. He is widely regarded as among the most influential writers of the 20th century...
NationalityIrish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth13 April 1906
CityFoxrock, Ireland
CountryIreland
records lasts realizing
My notes have a curious tendency, as I realize at last, to annihilate all they purport to record.
dark reality lasts
Clear to me at last that the dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality my most
book obscurity obscure
Do they [the publishers of Murphy] not understand that if the book is slightly obscure it is because it is a compression and thatto compress it further can only make it more obscure?
ends knows
I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of — how shall I say, I don’t know.
might enthusiasm reason
All the things you would do gladly, oh without enthusiasm, but gladly, all the things there seems no reason for your not doing, and that you do not do! Can it be we are not free? It might be worth looking into.
art philosophy should-have
We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties.
garden circles atheism
Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end he remembers the exact spot in the garden and the kind of life he led there before joining the family circle.
simple light needs
It is better to adopt the simplest explanation, even if it is not simple, even if it does not explain very much. A bright light is not necessary, a taper is all one needs to live in strangeness, if it faithfully burns.
blessed confusion waiting
What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in the immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come
fate too-late existentialism
Let us do something, while we have the chance! ... Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for one the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!
time hair teeth
We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
unhappy enough
Unhappy, but not unhappy enough.
enough
VLADIMIR: What do they say? ESTRAGON: They talk about their lives. VLADIMIR: To have lived is not enough for them. ESTRAGON: They have to talk about it.
Was I asleep? Had I slept?