I still smile it's not worth the trouble any more for a long time now it's not been worth the trouble the tongue spring goes into the mud I stay like this not thirsty any more the tongue goes back into the mouth it closes it has to make a straight line now it's done I've made the image.
Samuel BeckettThen I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
Samuel BeckettDecidedly it will never have been given to me to finish anything, except perhaps breathing. One must not be greedy.
Samuel BeckettI have always been amazed at my contemporariesโ lack of finesse, I whose soul writhed from morning to night, in the mere quest of itself.
Samuel BeckettThe tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.
Samuel Beckett