I have nothing against happiness. I just don’t happen to have a talent for it. — Samuel Beckett
(Looking at the tree) Pity we haven’t got a bit of rope. ― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot. (Grove Press; 1 edition, May 17, 2011) Originally published 1952. Premiered 5 January 1953 at theThéâtre de Babylone, Paris France.
And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and… Continue reading Samuel Beckett
You’re on Earth. There’s no cure for that. ― Samuel Beckett, Endgame & Act Without Words. (Grove Press January 12, 1994) Originally published January 1st 1957.
Dance first. Think later. It’s the natural order. ― Samuel Beckett
Perhaps that’s what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps that’s what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside, on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I’m neither one side nor the other, I’m in… Continue reading Samuel Beckett
I know your sorrow and I know that for the likes of us there is no ease for the heart to be had from words or reason and that in the very assurance of sorrow’s fading there is more sorrow. So I offer you only my deeply affectionate and compassionate thoughts and wish for you… Continue reading Samuel Beckett
I would like my love to die and the rain to be raining on the graveyard and on me walking the streets mourning her who thought she loved me —Samuel Beckett, “I would like my love to die,” Collected Poems in English and French. (Calder Publications; First Edition edition March 1977) Originally published 1961.
The new light above my table is a great improvement. With all this darkness around me I feel less alone. (Pause.) In a way. (Pause.) I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to… (hesitates) …me. (Pause.)― Samuel Beckett, Krapp’s Last Tape & Embers. (Faber & Faber February 16, 1998)… Continue reading Samuel Beckett
The essential is never to arrive anywhere, never to be anywhere. The essential is to go on squirming forever at the edge of the line, as long as there are waters and banks and ravening in heaven a sporting God to plague his creature, per pro his chosen shits. I’ve swallowed three hooks and am… Continue reading Samuel Beckett