Quote by: Samuel Beckett

But even them, my pains, I understand ill. That must come from my not being all pain and nothing else. There's the rub. Then they recede, or I, till they fill me with amaze and wonder, seen from a better planet. Not often, but I ask no more. Catch-cony life! To be nothing but pain, how that would simplify matters! Omnidolent! Impious dream.


Share this:  

Author Bio


  • NameSamuel Beckett
  • DescriptionIrish novelist, playwright, and poet
  • AliasesSamuel Barclay Beckett; Andrew Belis
  • BornApril 13, 1906
  • DiedDecember 22, 1989
  • CountryIreland
  • ProfessionWriter; Linguist; Film Director; Screenwriter; Cricketer; Poet; Novelist; Playwright; Translator; Artist
  • WorksMurphy; Molloy; Malone Dies; The Unnamable; Waiting For Godot; Watt; Endgame; Krapp's Last Tape; How It Is
  • AwardsNobel Prize In Literature