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.
And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it is wept.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote suggests that words may hold little true meaning and that claiming to create something original is often just repetition of what has been learned.
In this quote, Samuel Beckett reflects on the nature of expression and creativity, suggesting that what we communicate often falls short of genuine invention. Instead of truly creating, our words may simply echo past experiences and lessons learned, lacking the depth and emotional authenticity that should accompany real expression. He implies that there is a disconnect between our internal experiences and the external representations we construct, resulting in a hollow imitation rather than true creativity.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about the nature of creativity in an art class.
More from Samuel Beckett
All quotes βNothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo.
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.
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.
We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom, our ideals.
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I have lived eighty years of life and know nothing for it, but to be resigned and tell myself that flies are born to be eaten by spiders and man to be devoured by sorrow.
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In this treacherous world Nothing is the truth nor a lie. Everything depends on the color Of the crystal through which one sees it