As for my needs, they had dwindled as it were to my dimensions and become, if I may say so, of so exquisite a quality as to exclude all thought of succour.
Samuel BeckettFrom things about to disappear I turn away in time. To watch them out of sight, no, I can't do it.
Samuel BeckettWords are all we have.
Samuel BeckettAll I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.
Samuel BeckettTag: words dead irish writer beckett samuel
The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was possible. Fuck off, she said.
Samuel BeckettTag: fuck irish writer beckett samuel off
Habit is a great deadener.
Samuel BeckettMy dear Tom,
Delighted to get your letter. Do write again. This life is terrible and I don't understand how it can be endured.
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 BeckettTag: waiting-for-godot
Another happy day.
Samuel BeckettIt is midnight. Rain is beating against the window." It was not midnight. It was not raining.
Samuel BeckettTag: endgame
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