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
said
All I say cancels out, I’ll have said nothing.
dream order dust
I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place, under the last dust.
littles facts ends
The fact is, it seems, that the most you can hope is to be a little less, in the end, the creature you were in the beginning, and the middle.
nice wish stage
It's so nice to know where you're going, in the early stages. It almost rids you of the wish to go there.
witness
God is a witness that cannot be sworn.
bored awful waiting-for-godot
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
thinking mouths kind
I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.
godot said ifs
If by Godot I had meant God I would have said God, and not Godot.
life dance thinking
Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.
eye simple order
The Unnamable,1954... How all becomes clear and simple when one opens an eye on the within, having of course previously exposed it to the without, in order to benefit by the contrast.
next firsts ends
She felt, as she felt so often with Murphy, spattered with words that went dead as soon as they sounded; each word obliterated, before it had time to make sense, by the word that came next; so that in the end she did not know what had been said. It was like difficult music heard for the first time.
wall nice feet
Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished. Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap. I can't be punished any more. I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me. Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.
solitude proust humans
Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.
mania happens things-happen
Deplorable mania, when something happens, to inquire what.