ŷ������

“So I'm sitting in that damn chair, ready to die, and I say to her, 'You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm so damn glad you're going to kill me instead of some brainless, toothless druggie." Beckett smiled again at the memory of his almost-murder. "Then she traded the knife for her lips, and now she works for me." Beckett put his hands behind his head and flexed his giant biceps. "She won't tell me who hired her to come here. She's the deadliest person I've ever encountered. I still think she might kill me, but I can't stop looking at her.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie

“I can finally fucking breathe seeing you goddamn bastards.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie

“I happened to look up and there it was. All over and done with, at last. I sat on for a few moments with the ball in my hand and the dog yelping and pawing at me. (Pause.) Moments. Her moments, my moments (Pause.) The dog's moments.”
― Samuel Beckett, Krapp's Last Tape & Embers

“What is certain is this, that I never rested in that way again, my feet obscenely resting on the earth, my arms on the handlebars and on my arms my head, rocking and abandoned. It is indeed a delporable sight, a deplorable example, for the people, who so need to be encouraged, in their bitter toil, and to have before their eyes manifestations of strength only, of courage and joy, without which they might collapse, at the end of the day, and roll on the ground.”
― Samuel Beckett, Molloy

“But man is still today, at the age of twenty-five, at the mercy of an erection, physically too, from time to time, it's the common lot, even I was not immune, if that can be called an erection. It did not escape her naturally, women smell a rigid phallus ten miles away and wonder, How on earth did he spot me from there?”
― Samuel Beckett, First Love and Other Novellas

“He thought of hanging himself, to pass the time.”
― Johnny Rich, The Human Script

“I am interested in the shape of ideas, even if I do not believe in them”
― Samuel Beckett

“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.)”
― Samuel Beckett, Embers

“Any pub will do?��
“McPherson’s, I think. One with music that will alter my life forever, give me eternal happiness, and make me see God. You know. One like that.��
“So you need the magical sound of Ireland and some information about an Abbeyglen native. Francine”—Beckett’s eyes danced in the streaming sunlight—“I’m about to solve your every problem.�� Beckett stood up and gave my hair a light tug. “Prepare to worship and adore me.”
― Jenny B. Jones, There You'll Find Me

“And how meaningful Beckett's admonition is to me today: Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Rilke's paradoxical words also draw me onward still toward the unlived life that haunts all of us. Our task, he writes, is to be 'continuously defeated by ever-larger things.”
― James Hollis, Hauntings: Dispelling the Ghosts Who Run Our Lives

“People can be complicated. We can also be ridiculously simple.”
― Anyta Sunday, Pisces Hooks Taurus

“This is it, Beck. This is the hardest part of loving someone: not being with them when you want to be. It's so bad you can taste it.”
― Debra Anastasia, Poughkeepsie

“There are few poets today who can equal, in their esthetic exploitation of language, in their depth of commitment to their medium, in their range of conceptual understanding, in the purity of their closed forms, the work of Nabokov, Borges, Beckett, Barth, Broch, Gaddis, or Calvino, or any of half-a-dozen extraordinarily gifted South Americans.”
― William H. Gass, The World Within the Word

“I think it's in Malone Dies that Beckett's creature is in a kind of prison or hospital. As I recall, he is visited twice a day, slop brought in and slop taken out. He has a stub of a pencil, a bit of paper. And he asks questions, ten, sven, I don't remember, "Why am I here?" "What day is it?" The last one, no. 10 maybe, says "Number your answers." This is not just desperation and clinging to something called 'reason'--by his fingertips--that is humanity, shit-smeared, hopeless, and mad humanity--in the face of all denial. Our work is about that. My work.”
― Gerald Stern

“A cheval sur une tombe et une naissance difficile. Du fond du trou, rêveusement, le fossoyeur applique ses fers. On a le temps de vieillir. L'air est plein de nos cris.”
― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

“In a sense, Joyce was Beckett's Don Quixote, and Beckett was his Sancho Panza. Joyce aspired to the One; Beckett encapsulated the fragmented many. But as each author accomplished his task, it was in the service of the other. Ultimately, Beckett's landscapes would resound with articulate silence, and his empty spaces would collect within themselves the richness of multiple shadows--a physicist would say the negative particles--of all that exists in absence, as in the white patches of an Abstract Expressionist painting. Becket would evoke, on his canvasses of vast innuendo and through the interstices of conscious and unconscious thought, the richness that Joyce had made explicit in words and intricate structure.”
― Lois Gordon, The World of Samuel Beckett, 1906-1946

“When she was this wild he was a monster for her. He bruised her, took her blows and fought to give her the pleasure she made him earn.”
― Debra Anastasia, Saving Poughkeepsie

“What could be worse than having to be seen resorting to your own life?”
― Gary Lutz

“1

por qué no simplemente no esperar
a ser ocasión de
un vertedero de palabras

¿no es mejor abortar que ser estéril?

después de tu partida las horas son tan tristes
siempre empiezan a rastras demasiado pronto
los garfios desgarrando con ceguedad el lecho de miseria
rescatando los huesos los amores antiguos
cuencas una vez llenas con ojos como tuyos
¿es mejor siempre demasiado pronto que jamás?
negra necesidad salpicando los rostros
diciendo una vez más nunca flotó lo amado nueve días
ni nueve meses
ni nueve vidas

2

diciendo una vez más
si no me enseñas tú no aprenderé
diciendo una vez más existe un último
atardecer de últimas veces
últimas veces de mendigar
últimas veces de amar
de saber no saber simular
un último atardecer de últimas veces de decir
sino me amas nunca seré amado
si no te amo ya no amaré nunca

un batir de palabras gastadas una vez más en el corazón
amor amor amor golpe de un émbolo antiquísimo
moliendo el suero inalterable
de las palabras

una vez más aterrado
de no amar
de amar pero no a ti
de ser amado y no por ti
de saber no saber simular
simular

yo y todos los otros que te amen
si te aman

3

a menos que te amen”
― Samuel Beckett, Selected Poems 1930��1989

“HAMM:
Yesterday! What does that mean? Yesterday!
CLOV (violently):
That means that bloody awful day, long ago, before this bloody awful day. I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
(Pause.)”
― Beckett Samuel

“Se alejó, visiblemente en el mismo estado que aquel día de abril de 1992 en que vio una obra de Samuel Beckett en un teatro alternativo”
― David Foenkinos, Delicacy

“The Exo went pale when he realized what we were dealing with. Well, what he thought we were dealing with. I never really thought he was a paragon of courage, mister ‘I’ll-be-Captain-one-of-these-days�� Beckett. He wanted to turn a blind eye as it were, and keep going. Of course we didn’t want to break the law �� or tempt karma�� so the Captain over-ruled him and decided to stop. It was. A trap, I mean. But nothing like we thought �� not something as mundane as Corsairs. Oh, no. And it didn’t spring on us till days later, when we were light-years away.”
― Christina Engela, Space Vacation

“And how meaningful Beckett's admonition is to me today: Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Rilke's paradoxical words also draw me onward still toward the unlived life that haunts all of us. Our task, he writes, is to be 'continuously defeated by ever-larger things.' 145”
― James Hollis, Hauntings: Dispelling the Ghosts Who Run Our Lives

“I haven't event started yet Wood! I need time to process... it's not every day hell falls below zero.”
― K.Bromberg

“You're barebacking, aren't you?”
― K.Bromberg

“I have Shakespeared my Moliere to Tenessee, and I am Wild for Becket!
But I got a little tired of the redundancy.”
― Natasha Tsakos

“Αλλά πέρα από τις κοιλάδες στα ανατολικά ο ουρανός αλλάζει,είναι ο βρωμοήλιος ξανά,στην ώρα του σαν τον δήμιο.Κρατηθείτε τώρα,θα δούμε ένα από τα θαύματα της γης,και επιπλέον τους εαυτούς μας,η νύχτα δεν άλλαξε τίποτα,είναι μόνο το καπάκι του απόπατου,είμαστε τυχεροί που έχει καπάκι,οι αδελφοί μας είναι εδώ για να διαλύσουν τις ελπίδες μας,αν έχουμε καμιά,οι αμέτρητοι αδελφοί μας,και η αναγούλα που μας έρχεται,και όλες οι παλιές ξαφνικές σουβλιές.”
― Samuel Beckett,Άρης Μπερλής

“This prom sounds about as sexy as Vacation Bible School.”
― Greg Howard

“[Ibykos fr. 286 translated using only words
from p. 47 of Endgame by Samuel Beckett]

In your kitchen, on the one hand,
bright corpses
starting to stink of having an idea,
where one of my legs [is]
and beneath sooner or later
the whole universe
doesn't ring and won't work.
On the other hand, I shouldn't think so.
Nay Rather,
like a speck in the void,
pacing to and fro,
accompanied by the alarm,
frankly,
angrily,
impatiently,
not very convinced,
[it] kisses me goodbye. I'm dead. (Pause).”
― Anne Carson

“In the end, nothing is certain but that the voice will go on trying to put a life together and make sense of it until death calls time on the tale.”
― Tim Parks