VLADIMIR: (after a moment of bewilderment). We'll see when the time comes. (Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.
ESTRAGON: Everything oozes.
VLADIMIR: Look at the tree.
ESTRAGON: It's never the same pus from one second to the next.
VLADIMIR: The tree, look at the tree. Estragon looks at the tree.
ESTRAGON: Was it not there yesterday?
VLADIMIR: Yes of course it was there. Do you not remember? We nearly hanged ourselves from it. But you wouldn't. Do you not remember?
ESTRAGON: You dreamt it.
VLADIMIR: Is it possible you've forgotten already?
ESTRAGON: That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.

Samuel Beckett

Mots clés memory

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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

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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

Mots clés friendship solidarity

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A (impatient): Well?
B (reading): "... sick headaches... eye trouble... irrational fear of
vipers... ear trouble... "--nothing for us there--"... fibroid
tumours... pathological horror of songbirds... throat trouble...
need of affection... "--we're coming to it--"... inner void...
congenital timidity... nose trouble... "--ah! listen to this--"...
morbidly sensitive to the opinions of others..." (Looks up.)
What did I tell you?
A (glum): Tsstss!
B: I'll read the whole passage: "... morbidly sensitive to the opinion
of others--" (His lamp goes out.) Well! The bulb has blown!
(The lamp goes on again.) No, it hasn't! Must be a faulty
connection. (Examines the lamp, straightens the flex.) The
flex was twisted, now all is well. (Reading.) "... morbidly
sensitive--" (The lamp goes out.) Bugger and shit!

Pause.

(next two lines spoken on top of each other)
B: "... morbidly sensitive--"
A: Keep your hands off the table.

B: What?
A: Keep your hands off the table. If it's a connection the least jog
can do it.
B: (having pulled back his chair a little way): "... morbidly
sensitive--"

The lamp goes out. B Bangs on the table with his fist.
The lamp goes on again. Pause.

A: Mysterious affair, electricity.

Samuel Beckett

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CLOV:
Do you believe in the life to come?
HAMM:
Mine was always that.

Samuel Beckett

Mots clés existentialism

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WINNIE: Sometimes I am wrong. (Smile.) But not often. (Smile off.) Sometimes all is over, for the day, all done, all said, all ready for the night, and the day not over, far from over, the night not ready, far, far from ready. (Smile.) But not often. (Smile off.)

Samuel Beckett

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All life long, the same questions, the same answers.

Samuel Beckett

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And what I have, what I am, is enough, was always enough for me, and as far as my dear little sweet little future is concerned I have no qualms, I have a good time coming.

Samuel Beckett

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Hell must be like... reminiscing about the good old days when we wished we were dead.

Samuel Beckett

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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. Let us not speak well of it either. Let us not speak of it at all. (Pause. Judiciously.) (It is true the population has increased.

Samuel Beckett

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