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"It is suicide to be abroad. But what it is to be at home, ... what it is to be at home? A lingering dissolution."
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"War is only one facet of the larger problem of evil which has been with the human race since the beginning . . .This same evil tried to destroy the greatest human being who ever lived, nailing Him to a cross."
"Heaven is a wonderful place and the benefits for the believer are out of this world!"
"God does not want an apartment in our house. He claims our entire home from attic to cellar."
"I won't tell you that the world matters nothing, or the world's voice, or the voice of society. They matter a good deal. They matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one's own life, fully, entirely, completely-or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have that moment now. Choose!"
"Thought, if I may put it, is the man behind the possession, appearance, things we like, things we hate and the very epitome of life."
"We should not covet or expect the praise of ungodly men . . . the very fact that they are inclined to persecute us is proof that we are “not of the world."
"A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question."
"Heavenly rest will be so refreshing that we will never feel that exhaustion of mind and body we so frequently experience now. I'm really looking forward to that."
"There are crimes which become innocent and even glorious through their splendor, number and excess."
"It is what it is because you let it be so."
Explore more quotes by Samuel Beckett
"The tears of the world are a constant quality. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh."
"No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found."
"I shall state silences more competently than ever a better man spangled the butterflies of vertigo."
"Nothing matters but the writing. There has been nothing else worthwhile... a stain upon the silence."
"I write about myself with the same pencil and in the same exercise book as about him. It is no longer I, but another whose life is just beginning."
"Just under the surface I shall be, all together at first, then separate and drift, through all the earth and perhaps in the end through a cliff into the sea, something of me. A ton of worms in an acre, that is a wonderful thought, a ton of worms, I believe it."
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