“...of course I regret everything. Not a word, not a deed, not a thought, not a need, not a grief, not a joy...not a doubt, not a trust, not a scorn, not a lust, not a hope, not a fear, not a smile, not a tear, not a name, not a face, no time, no place, that I do not regret...”

“The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.” ~ Beckett

“All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” ~ Beckett

“Birth was the death of him.” ~ Beckett

Beckett does not believe in God, though he seems to imply that God has committed an unforgivable sin by not existing.

— Anthony Burgess, The Novel Now

Its author has achieved a theoretical impossibility-a play in which nothing happens, that yet keeps audiences glued to their seats. What’s more, since the second act is a subtly different reprise of the first, he has written a play in which nothing happens, twice...

— V. Mercier

The prospect of reading Beckett's letters quickens the blood like no other's, and one must hope to stay alive until the fourth volume is safely delivered.

— Tom Stoppard, blurb on dust jacket of The Letters of Samuel Beckett 1929–1940

I don’t know anywhere in modern art any more faithful or more impressive picture of contemporary humanity than the one he offers us in The Unamable.

— Bram van Velde

He was a taciturn man. Sometimes a word escaped from his mouth. Sure, a word you would never forget. It would stick in your head … This friendship with Beckett is the most important experience in my life.

— Bram van Velde

“... major writers are usually those who have had to struggle against the odds...while writers who have had an easy start in life are usually second rate — or at least, not quite first-rate. Dickens, Balzac, Dostoevsky, Shaw, H. G. Wells, are examples of the first kind...

...in the 20th century, J. Galsworthy, G. Greene, E. Waugh, and S. Beckett are examples of the second kind. They are far from being mediocre writers; yet they tend to be tinged with a certain pessimism that arises from never having achieved a certain resistance against problems.”

Normally I didn’t see a great deal. I didn’t hear a great deal either. I didn’t pay attention. Strictly speaking I wasn’t there. Strictly speaking I believe I’ve never been anywhere.

~ Beckett