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Quotes About Waiting For Godot

Quotes tagged as "waiting-for-godot" (showing 1-6 of 6)
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

Samuel Beckett
“Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaquaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell and suffers like the divine Miranda with those who for reasons unknown but time will tell are plunged into torment plunged into fire whose fire flames if that continues and who can doubt it will fire the firmament that is to say blast hell to heaven so blue still and calm so calm with a calm which even though intermittent is better than nothing but not so fast and considering what is more that as a result of the labors left unfinished”
Samuel Beckett

Samuel Beckett
“ESTRAGON: We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?

VLADIMIR: (impatiently). Yes, yes, we’re magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

“Writing to you is like some embarrassing remake of Waiting For Godot. Why don't you jerk off on paper in my direction, as I've done. I am so unhappy it's amusing.”
Maryse Holder, Give Sorrow Words: Maryse Holder's Letters From Mexico

Samuel Beckett
“Gimdyti apsižergus kapą ir kančiose gimti. Duobėje duobkasys svajingai tvarkosi įrankius. Lieka laiko susenti. Ore skamba mūsų riksmai.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

Samuel Beckett
“A cheval sur une tombe et une naissance difficile. Du fond du trou, rêveusement, le fossoyeur applique ses fers. On a le temps de vieillir. L'air est plein de nos cris.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

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