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Samuel Beckett quotes (showing 31-60 of 772)

“No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.”
Samuel Beckett
“Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“Estragon: I'm like that. Either I forget right away or I never forget.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“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.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“Normally I didn’t see a great deal. I didn’t hear a great deal either. I didn’t pay attention. Strictly speaking I wasn’t there. Strictly speaking I believe I’ve never been anywhere.”
Samuel Beckett
“What is that unforgettable line?”
Samuel Beckett
“Estragon: People are bloody ignorant apes.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.”
Samuel Beckett
“Yes, in my life, since we must call it so, there were three things, the inability to speak, the inability to be silent, and solitude, that’s what I’ve had to make the best of.”
Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable
“Unfortunately I am afraid, as always, of going on. For to go on means going from here, means finding me, losing me, vanishing and beginning again, a stranger first, then little by little the same as always, in another place, where I shall say I have always been, of which I shall know nothing, being incapable of seeing, moving, thinking, speaking, but of which little by little, in spite of these handicaps, I shall begin to know something, just enough for it to turn out to be the same place as always, the same which seems made for me and does not want me, which I seem to want and do not want, take your choice, which spews me out or swallows me up, I’ll never know, which is perhaps merely the inside of my distant skull where once I wandered, now am fixed, lost for tininess, or straining against the walls, with my head, my hands, my feet, my back, and ever murmuring my old stories, my old story, as if it were the first time.”
Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable
“ESTRAGON: Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
VLADIMIR: Did I ever leave you?
ESTRAGON: You let me go.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“Vladimir: I don't understand.
Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you?
Vladimir uses his intelligence.
Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“ Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be? He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (pause) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener. At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said? ”
Samuel Beckett
“I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.”
Samuel Beckett, Malone Dies
“Estragon: Nothing to be done.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“POZZO:
I am blind.
(Silence.)
ESTRAGON:
Perhaps he can see into the future.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“You cried for night - it falls. Now cry in darkness.”
Samuel Beckett
“Habit is a great deadener.”
Samuel Beckett
“To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“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.”
Samuel Beckett, Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable
“The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh. Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“Estragon: What about hanging ourselves?
Vladimir: Hmm. It'd give us an erection.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
“Yes, there were times when I forgot not only who I was but that I was, forgot to be.”
Samuel Beckett, Molloy
“خودم را در آغوش گرفته ام! نه چندان با لطافت نه چندان با محبت اما وفادار .. وفادار”
Samuel Beckett
“Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that… Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.”
Samuel Beckett, Endgame
“Silence, yes, but what silence! For it is all very fine to keep silence, but one has also to consider the kind of silence one keeps.”
Samuel Beckett
“The creation of the world did not take place once and for all time, but takes place every day.”
Samuel Beckett, Proust
“The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.”
Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable
“The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the tears, the skelps, and the yelps.”
Samuel Beckett, Watt


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