Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear Samuel Beckett More Quotes by Samuel Beckett More Quotes From Samuel Beckett It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution. Samuel Beckett lingeringsuicidehome Dying for dark — and the darker the Worse. Strange. Samuel Beckett strangedyingdark Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark. Samuel Beckett intelligenceusedark Was I asleep? Had I slept? Samuel Beckett I want very much to be back in the caul, on my back in the dark forever. Samuel Beckett darkwantforever Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor of his existence. Samuel Beckett lightningguaranteesdull 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. Samuel Beckett menrealitythinking I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark. Samuel Beckett phrasesrealdark That's what hell must be like, small chat to the babbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were dead. Samuel Beckett philosophyhistoryart We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties. Samuel Beckett should-havephilosophyart Enough of acting the infant who has been told so often how he was found under a cabbage that in the end he remembers the exact spot in the garden and the kind of life he led there before joining the family circle. Samuel Beckett atheismcirclesgarden Estragon: Nothing to be done. Samuel Beckett done How time flies when one has fun! Samuel Beckett time-flieshaving-funfun How hideous is the semicolon. Samuel Beckett hideous Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it. Samuel Beckett atheismseabelieve Name, no, nothing is nameable, tell, no, nothing can be told, what then, I don't know, I shouldn't have begun. Samuel Beckett futilitylanguagenames All 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 Beckett phrasesbeautylong Let us do something, while we have the chance! ... Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for one the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! Samuel Beckett fatechancetoo-late My dear Tom, Delighted to get your letter. Do write again. This life is terrible and I don't understand how it can be endured. Samuel Beckett life-isletterswriting Light black. From pole to pole. Samuel Beckett blacklight
