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
teaching learning faults
I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.
bears grudge whisky
The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.
thanks ends dear
Dear incomprehension, it's thanks to you I'll be myself, in the end.
eye ostriches fool
Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.
smile laughter people
Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done.
memories should-have one-day
It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter.
rain house midnight
Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
waiting-for-godot godot cruel-fate
All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.
memories mean goes-on
The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
soul able stories
I don't know why I told this story. I could just as well have told another. Perhaps some other time I'll be able to tell another. Living souls, you will see how alike they are.
thinking mind want
Not to want to say, not to know what you want to say, not to be able to say what you think you want to say, and never to stop saying, or hardly ever, that is the thing to keep in mind, even in the heat of composition.
mistake my-mistakes
My mistakes are my life.
earth cures endgame
You're on earth. There's no cure for that.
air waiting-for-godot cry
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.