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
Yes, there is no denying it, any longer, it is not you who are dead, but all the others. So you get up and go to your mother, who thinks she is alive. That's my impression. But now I shall have to get myself out of this ditch. How joyfully I would vanish here, sinking deeper and deeper under the rains.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the absurdity of existence and isolation in life.
In this quote, Samuel Beckett grapples with themes of existence and reality, suggesting that true isolation comes from a disconnection with others. It highlights a struggle to find meaning and connection in a world where one feels separate, expressing a desire to escape to a deeper understanding or oblivion amidst the chaos of life.
Themes
ExistenceIsolationLifeMeaningAbsurdity
In practice
Example use cases
This quote could be used in a philosophical discussion on the nature of existence.
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.
Samuel BeckettRead
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.
Samuel BeckettRead
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
Similar quotes
i discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind, but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature.
Gabriel Garcia MarquezRead
Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.
Henry David ThoreauRead
It is through exchange that difference becomes a blessing, not a curse.
Jonathan SacksRead
Nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner.
Oscar WildeRead
I know well what I am fleeing from but not what I am in search of.
Michel De MontaigneRead
Nothing becomes so offensive so quickly as grief. When fresh it finds someone to console it, but when it becomes chronic, it is ridiculed and rightly.
Seneca The YoungerRead