Samuel Beckett

“Quisiera que mi amor muriese...quisiera que mi amor muriesey que lloviera sobre el cementerioy las callejas por las que caminollorando a aquella que creyó que amaba”

“They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.”

“This should all be rewritten in the pluperfect.”

“That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.”

“Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle.”

“Where would I go, if I could go, who would I be, if I could be, what would I say, if I had a voice, who says this, saying it's me?”

“Fail better worse now.”

“It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution.”

“I stopped being half-witted and became sly whenever I took the trouble.”

“Constipation is a sign of good health in pomeranians.”

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

“If you do not love me I shall not be loved. If I do not love you I shall not love.”

“Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence”

“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.”

“It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.”

“Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the gravedigger puts on the forceps.”

“I knew it would soon be the end, so I played the part, you know, the part of-how shall I say, I don’t know.”

“e 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.”

“Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.”

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

“We are no longer the same, you wiser but not sadder, and I sadder but not wiser, for wiser I could hardly become without grave personal inconvenience, whereas sorrow is a thing you can keep adding to all your life long, is it not, like a stamp or an egg collection, without feeling very much the worse for it, is it not.”

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

“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.)”

“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.”

“The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust”

“Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.”

“In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg.Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?”

“From Beckett's "The Unnamable":"They love each other, marry, in order to love each other better, more conveniently, he goes off to the wars, he dies at the wars, she weeps, with emotion, at having loved him, at having lost him, yep, marries again, in order to love again..., more conveniently again, they love each other, you love as many times as necessary, as necessary in order to be happy, he comes back, the other comes back, from the wars, he didn't die at the wars after all, she goes to the station, to meet him, he dies in the train, of emotion, at the thought of seeing her again, having her again, she weeps, weeps again, with emotion again, at having lost him again, yep, goes back to the house, he's dead, the other is dead, the mother-in-law takes him down, he hanged himself, with emotion, at the thought of losing her, she weeps, weeps louder, at having loved him, at having lost him, there's a story for you, that was to teach me the nature of emotion, that's called emotion, what emotion can do, given favourable conditions, what love can do, well well, so that's emotion, that's love, and trains, and the nature of trains, and the meaning of...”

“To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten.”

“Vladimir: I don't understand. Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? Vladimir uses his intelligence. Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.”

“How is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being save. The four of them were there-or therabouts-and only one speaks of a thief being saved.”

“What is that unforgettable line?”

“Will night never come?”

“If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place, under the last dust.”

“ESTRAGON: Do you think God sees me? VLADIMIR: You must close your eyes. Estragon closes his eyes, staggers worse. ESTRAGON: (stopping, brandishing his fists, at the top of his voice.) God have pity on me! VLADIMIR: (vexed). And me? ESTRAGON: On me! On me! Pity! On me!”

“Not to want to say, not to know what you want to say, not to be able to say what you think you want to say, and never to stop saying, or hardly ever, that is the thing to keep in mind, even in the heat of composition.”

“Was I asleep? Had I slept?”

“Dying for dark - the darker the worse. Strange.”

“We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get to work! (He advances towards the heap, stops in his stride.) In an instant all will vanish and we'll be alone more, in the midst of nothingness!”

“let us say before i go any further, that i forgive nobody. i wish them all an atrocious life in the fires of icy hell and in the execrable generations to come.”

“These things I say, and shall say, if I can, are no longer, or are not yet, or never were, or never will be, or if they were, if they are, if they will be, were not here, are not here, will not be here, but elsewhere. ... The Unnamable”

“I have spoken softly, gone my ways softly, all my days, as behoves one who has nothing to say, nowhere to go, and so nothing to gain by being seen or heard.”

“Ada: And why life? (Pause.) Why life, Henry? (Pause.) Is there anyone about?Henry: Not a living soul.Ada: I thought as much. (Pause.) When we longed to have it to ourselves there was always someone. Now that it does not matter the place is deserted.”

“Henry: I usen't to need anyone, just to myself, stories, there was a great one about an old fellow called Bolton, I never finished it, I never finished any of them, I never finished anything, everything always went on for ever. (Pause.)”

“I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.(Pause. Krapp's lips move. No sound.)Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.”