Quotes by Samuel Beckett

She began stroking my ankles. I considered kicking her in the cunt.

And on the threshold of being no more I succeed in being another.

And I seemed to see myself ageing as swiftly as a day-fly. But the idea of ageing was not exactly the one which offered itself to me. And what I saw was more like a crumbling, a frenzied collapsing of all that had always protected me from all I was always condemned to be.

VLADIMIR: Moron!ESTRAGON: Vermin!VLADIMIR: Abortion!ESTRAGON: Morpion!VLADIMIR: Sewer-rat!ESTRAGON: Curate!VLADIMIR: C

...The less I think of it the more certain I am.

Curiosity is the hair of our habit tending to stand on end. It rarely happens that our attention is not stained in greater or lesser degree by this animal element.

Seen no matter how and said as seen. Dread of black. Of white. Of void. Let her vanish. And the rest. For good.

Astride of a grave and a difficult birth.Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps.We have time to grow old.The air is full of our cries.But habit is a great deadener.At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing.Let him sleep on.

There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one when you start and the other when you throw it in the waste-paper basket.

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

HAMM:Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?NAGG:I didnt know.HAMM:What? What didnt you know?NAGG:That itd be you.(Pause.)

When a man in a forest thinks he is going forward in a straight line, in reality he is going in a circle, I did my best to go in a circle, hoping to go in a straight line.

When we are reading, a voice comes to us as in the dark and whispers, Imagine! Samuel Beckettas told by Bill Moyer in the Foreword he wrote for, The Public Library: A Photographic Essay by Robert Dawson. Afterword by Ann Patchett

Poets are the sense, philosophers­­ the intelligence­­ of humanity.

I was out of sorts. They are deep, my sorts, a deep ditch, and I am not often out of them.

Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.

Luckys monologue: (...)the strides of physical culture the practice of sports such as tennis football running cycling swimming flying floating riding gliding conating camogie skating tennis of all kinds dying flying sports of all sorts autumn summer winter winter tennis of all kinds hockey of all sorts peniciline and succedanea in a word(...)

Estragon: And if he doesnt come?Vladimir: (after a moment of bewilderment) Well see when the time comes.

E: Well, shall we go?V: Yes, lets go.(They do not move)

Be again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasnt enough for you.