I asked her to look at me and after a few moments - (pause) - after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low) Let me in.
Samuel BeckettRead
Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the nature of human existence and the inevitability of death, suggesting that life is fleeting and filled with suffering.
In this poignant quote, Samuel Beckett explores the torment of time and existence. He emphasizes the transient nature of life, highlighting that significant moments, from birth to death, occur in a fleeting instant. The imagery of being born 'asatride of a grave' encapsulates a profound understanding of mortality, suggesting that life is shadowed by death from the very beginning. Beckett's words evoke a sense of existential despair, questioning whether the rare moments of light in life are worth the torment of time deceivingly passing until the eventual end.
Themes
TimeExistenceMortalitySufferingPhilosophyLife
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about the existential themes in literature.
More from Samuel Beckett
All quotes →Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
Samuel BeckettRead
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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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.
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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.
Samuel BeckettRead
We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
Samuel BeckettRead
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