God damn you to hell, Sir, no, it's indecent, there are limits! In six days, do you hear me, six days, God made the world. Yes Sir, no less Sir, the WORLD! And you are not bloody well capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months!'
'But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look at the world and look at my TROUSERS!
Onca zamandan sonra, güneşli rüzgarı sevenle rüzgarlı güneşi sevenin yeniden birlikte olmaları az şey mi doğrusu,az şey mi?
Samuel BeckettHe speaks of himself as of another. Himself he devises too for company. Leave it at that. Confusion too is company up to a point. Better hope deferred than none. Up to a point. Till the heart starts to sicken. Company too up to a point. Better a sick heart than none. Till it starts to break. So speaking of himself he concludes for the time being, For the time being leave it at that.
Samuel BeckettPOZZO:
Non piange più. (A Estragone) In un certo senso l'ha sostituito lei. (Pensieroso) Le lacrime del mondo sono immutabili. Non appena qualcuno si mette a piangere, qualcun altro, chissà dove, smette. E così per il riso. (Ride) Non diciamo troppo male, perciò, della nostra epoca; non è più disgraziata delle precedenti. (Pausa) Ma non diciamone neanche troppo bene. (Pausa) Non parliamone affatto. (Pausa) È vero, però, che la popolazione è aumentata.
There is no escape from the hours and the days. Neither from tomorrow nor from yesterday, because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us... We are not merely more weary because of yesterday, we are other, no longer what we were before the calamity of yesterday
Samuel BeckettΕίμαστε καταδικασμένοι σε έναν αιώνιο μονόλογο, χωρίς έννοια, χωρίς περιεχόμενο. Σε ένα αιώνιο μουρμούρισμα. Να μιλάμε, και να μιλάμε για το τίποτα.
Samuel BeckettDünyadaki gözyaşı miktarı sabittir. Ağlamaya başlayan biri için, bir yerlerde bir başkası keser ağlamayı. Aynı şey gülmek için de geçerlidir. (Güler.) Bizim kuşak için kötü şeyler söylemeyelim öyleyse, önceki kuşaklardan daha bedbaht değiliz çünkü.
Samuel BeckettI don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll wake, in the silence, and never sleep again. (It will be I?) Or dream (dream again), dream of a silence, a dream silence, full of murmurs (I don’t know, that’s all words), never wake (all words, there’s nothing else).
You must go on, that’s all I know.
They’re going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re going to abandon me. It will be the silence, for a moment (a good few moments). Or it will be mine? The lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts? It will be I?
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
You must go on.
I’ll go on. You must say words, as long as there are any - until they find me, until they say me. (Strange pain, strange sin!) You must go on. Perhaps it’s done already. Perhaps they have said me already. Perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story. (That would surprise me, if it opens.)
It will be I? It will be the silence, where I am? I don’t know, I’ll never know: in the silence you don’t know.
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
I’ll go on.
Tag: words silence story dream suicide
There’s my life, why not, it is one, if you like, if you must, I don’t say no, this evening. There has to be one, it seems, once there is speech, no need of a story, a story is not compulsory, just a life, that’s the mistake I made, one of the mistakes, to have wanted a story for myself, whereas life alone is enough.
Samuel BeckettOn trouve toujours quelque chose, hein, Didi, pour nous donner l'impression d'exister?
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