All human life is here, but the Holy Ghost seems to be somewhere else.

Novelists are perhaps the last people in the world to be entrusted with opinions. The nature of a novel is that it has no opinions, only the dialectic of contrary views, some of which, all of which, may be untenable and even silly. A novelist should not be too intelligent either, although he may be permitted to be an intellectual.

For no man is damned precisely because God hath not chosen him, because he is not elected, but because he is a sinner, and doth wilfully refuse the means of grace offered.

Death comes along like a gas bill one can't pay.

Translation is not a matter of words only: it is a matter of making intelligible a whole culture.

Beckett does not believe in God, though he seems to imply that God has committed an unforgivable sin by not existing.

For the serious artist does not satisfy needs