Samuel Beckett Quotes

The mind was dreaming. The world was its dream.

We all know what we know. We experience with our minds and breath.

There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought.

it is in our minds that we live much of our life.

Clearly I know, the mind is mountains, rivers, and the great earth; sun, moon, and stars.

All thinking, knowing, perception, space-time, occur in consciousness. You are a non-local consciousness. The world is in you.

I think generally I'm kind of interested in subjective experience, what goes on inside someone's head, that being all they really know of the world.

We do not merely perceive objects and hold thoughts in our minds: all our perceptions and thought processes are felt. All have a distinctive component that announces an unequivocal link between images and the existence of life in our organism.

I don't talk about consciousness. I talk about interiority.

The world is not outside you.

What each man does is based not on direct and certain knowledge, but on pictures made by himself or given to him...

But we shall not know the world by looking at it; we know it by looking at the hovering fly.

Dreams and waking life are both the same kinds of things. The difference is that dreaming is perceiving free of external constraints, whereas perceiving otherwise is dreaming true. Meaning what you dream about actually happens.

One can only see what one observes, and one observes only things which are already in the mind.

You believe that you live in the world, where in fact the world lives within you.

Reality is inside the skull.

Consciousness is a sea ringed with visions.

All our interior world is reality, and that, perhaps, more so than our apparent world.

Through art alone are we able to emerge from ourselves, to know what another person sees of a universe which is not the same as our own and of which, without art, the landscapes would remain as unknown to us as those that may exist on the moon.

As for all I can tell, the only difference is that what many see we call a real thing, and what only one sees we call a dream.

Whatever we know without inference is mental.

We forget that the world is what we imagine it to be. We stop being the sun and become, instead, the pool of water reflecting it.

[D]oes the real world have any more substance than visions and hallucinations when we're having them? At any given moment, what's happening in our minds is all and everything that happens.

Each of us literally chooses, by his way of attending to things, what sort of universe he shall appear to himself to inhabit.

The mind is a kind of theater, where several perceptions successively make their appearence; pass, re-pass, glide away, and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situations.