Best 406 quotes in «absurd quotes» category

I think horror is a good genre for exploring anything, because everything is pretty horrifying. And I think the most effective horror things, and even maybe the most ineffective ones, are pretty absurd, and usually pretty funny.

I think my life is of great importance, but I also think it is meaningless.

It is a Bush administration official on the moment when torture breaks a victim: The job of the interrogator is to safely help the terrorist do his duty to Allah, so he then feels liberated to speak freely. From Neil Gaiman's account of a torturer in hell: We will hurt you. And we are not sorry. But we do not do it to punish you. We do it to redeem you. Because afterward, you'll be a better person ... and because we love you. One day you'll thank us for it. War is peace. Torture is freedom. In the end, you love Big Brother.

I try not to take things lying down, especially rectal thermometers

It's difficult to cross from one economic class to another. You'll drown in champaigne.

It's easy for common people to say what they think about the government. No one listens to them.

It's easy to reach the top. You have to bow.

It's not hard to fail...it's hard to accept you failed...but once that's out of the way, it's pretty smooth sailing

I unwrapped my love for her like one might unwrap leftovers. Gotta eat up the old stuff first, as a cannibal might say in a retirement home.

It was a voyage into the absurd.

I used to be into ‘forbidden fruit’, but I’ve moved on to‘verboten vegetables

It's one thing if your hobby is to put ships inside a bottle, but a deer in the headlights!... That's a real talent

I've just been certified as a shaman, or sha-woman, if you please," Dr. Tuttle said. "You can hop up on the table if you prefer not to stand. You look worse for wear. Is that the expression?" I leaned carefully against the bookshelf. "What do you use the massage table for?" I heard myself ask. "Mystical recalibrations, mostly. I use copper dowels to locate lugubriations in the subtle body field. It's an ancient form of healing—locating and then surgically removing cancerous energies." "I see." "And by surgery I mean metaphysical. Like magnet sucking. I can show you the magnet machine if you're interested. Small enough to fit in a handbag. Costs a pretty penny, although it's very useful. Very. Not so much for insomniacs, but for compulsive gamblers and Peeping Toms—adrenaline junkies, in other words. New York City is full of those types, so I foresee myself getting busier this year. But don't worry. I'm not abandoning my psychiatric clients. There are only a few of you anyway. Hence my new certification. Costly, but worth it. Sit on it," she insisted, so I did, grappling with the edge of the cool pleather of the massage table to hoist myself up. My legs swung like a kid's at the doctor's.

I've knitted myself a hat, it's plum red with an appealing lace pattern, I figured that a few air holes would be nice now that it's spring. I put it on and feel like a cranberry in the snow, and I wonder if they can see me from the moon. Me and the Great Wall.

I was mistaken when I said you live in my heart. How absurd I was when you live in my fingertips so that everything I touch is you. How foolish I was when you live in my toes so that everywhere I go there's you. How senseless of me to say you live in my heart when you breathe in my lungs, walk on my mind, and drink in my mouth. I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

Love isn't two matching unicycles. Love is a bicycle—and mine just got stolen.

Love is just the chocolate-coated realization you're going to spend the rest of your life with a person and unfortunately it melts in your mouth

Long before the Theater of the Absurd, Woolrich discovered that an incomprehensible universe is best reflected in an incomprehensible story. ("Introduction")

Many years later when I began training as a plastic surgeon, I understood something that I had not that day in the kitchen arguing for Thalia to leave Tinos for the boarding school. I learned that the world didn't see the inside of you, that it didn't care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bone. It was as simple, as absurd, and as cruel as that. My patients knew this. They saw that much of what they were, would be, or could be hinged on the symmetry of their bone structure, the space between their eyes, their chin length, the tip projection of their nose, whether they had an ideal nasofrontal angle or not. Beauty is an enormous unmerited gift given randomly, stupidly.

Loving someone is sticking a pin through a voodoo doll and not hitting any vital organs

Manners without sincerity, is called polite society

Maruman does not loll.

Mees kirjutab masinasse armastuskirja ja masin vastab mehele adressaadi asemel ja tasemel Nii täiuslik on see masin see tshekkide ja armastuskirjade väljastamismasin Ja mees kes on mugavasti aset võtnud oma elamismasinas loeb oma lugemismasinaga oma kirjutusmasina vastust Ja ise koos oma kalkuleerimismasinaga oma unistamismasinas ostab ta ühe armatsemismasina Ja oma unistusterealiseerimismasinas armatseb ta oma kirjutusmasinaga oma armatsemismasina abil Kuid masin petab teda ühe generaatoriga Ühe surnuksnaerutamisegeneraatoriga.

Mr. A calls me into his office and says he's got bad news and bad news, and which do I want first. I say the bad news.

Men protect women from those like them.

Money can't buy you friends, but you do get a better class of enemy.

Never send a Man in to do a Donkey's job

My joy is that there is no such world at all, but that the substance of life is in everyone! There is no reason to be troubled because we are absurd, is there? For we really are: we are absurd, frivolous, we have bad habits, we're bored, we don't know how to look around ourselves, we don't know how to understand, we are all like this, all of us, you, and I, and everyone! And you aren't offended by my telling you straight to your faces that you are absurd? There is the basic stuff of life in your, isn't there? You know, I believe it's sometimes even good to be ridiculous. Yes, much better. People forgive each other more readily and become more humble, we can't understand everything at once, we can't begin with perfection! To reach perfection there must first be much we do not understand. And if we understand too quickly we will probably not understand very well. I tell this to you who have been able to understand so much and - do not understand.' p. 577

Naked guy think Hulk stupid?

My bones always crack. Sometimes, I like to imagine that one day, my back will split open, and beautiful wings will emerge.

My last girlfriend was a Showgirl - But we eventually broke up because she wouldn't Tell me anything. Now I'm dating a girl who looks exactly like my grandma, only my girl older. -James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

Never love anybody who treats you like you're normal...they're just the psychiatric hospital staff

Nobody is sure anymore who really runs the company (not even the people who are credited with running it), but the company does run.

Remember the Hottentots?" asked James. "They've become the Khoi now, which means that the Germans will have to retire that wonderful word of theirs, Hottentotenpotentatenstantenattentater, which means, as you know, one who attacks the aunt of a Hottentot potentate.

Now, he thought, since all these most easily perishing things have slipped from me again, now I'm standing here under the sun again just as I have been standing here a little child, nothing is mine, I have no abilities, there is nothing I could bring about, I have learned nothing. How wondrous is this! Now, that I'm no longer young, that my hair is already half gray, that my strength is fading, now I'm starting again at the beginning and as a child! Again, he had to smile. Yes, his fate had been strange! Things were going downhill with him, and now he was again facing the world void and naked and stupid. But he could not feel sad about this, no, he even felt a great urge to laugh, to laugh about himself, to laugh about this strange, foolish world.

Now let me ask you a technical question. Do you have any heroes?" "I guess Whoopi Goldberg is my hero." "A family friend?" "She took care of me after my mother died," I said. Who hadn't heard of Whoopi Goldberg?

Now write this down because I have a feeling you're too psychotic to remember: Saturday, January twentieth, at two o'clock. And try the Infermiterol. Bye-bye.

O absurdo é essencialmente um divórcio. Não está num nem outro dos elementos comparados. Nasce do seu confronto.

Our history is stagnating. We can not agree upon national heroes.

Raining. Oh, brother, a scratch on the fender. Damn rabbi on his unicycle. Wait a minute, where are my car keys? Could have sworn I left them in this pocket. No, just some loose change and ticket stubs from the all-black version of Elaine Stritch’ s one-woman show. Did I check my desk? Better go back inside. What’s in the top drawer here? Hmm. Envelopes, my paper clips, a loaded revolver in case the tenant in 2A begins yodelling again.

No peace is possible between the novelist and the agélaste [those who do not laugh]. Never having heard God's laughter, the agélastes are convinced that the truth is obvious, that all men necessarily think the same thing, and that they themselves are exactly what they think they are. But it is precisely in losing the certainty of truth and the unanimous agreement of others that man becomes an individual. The novel is the imaginary paradise of individuals. It is the territory where no one possesses the truth, neither Anna nor Karenin, but where everyone has the right to be understood, both Anna and Karenin.

O.K., then, all right, they would adopt a white-trash dog. Ha ha. They could name it Zeke, buy it a little corncob pipe and a straw hat. She imagined the puppy, having crapped on the rug, looking up at her, going, Cain’t hep it. But no. Had she come from a perfect place? Everything was transmutable. She imagined the puppy grown up, entertaining some friends, speaking to them in a British accent: My family of origin was, um, rather not, shall we say, of the most respectable... Ha ha, wow, the mind was amazing, always cranking out these—

People are savages. Their civilized behaviour is only a conditioned response.

Perhaps you'd hire on as Cleftlocke's minstrel." "I'd rather be sung about than sing." "I doubt you've got the voice for it anyway.

Psychiatry has come a long way, into the spiritual realm. Into energies. There are deniers, certainly, but they all work for big oil. Now tell me about your most recent dreams.

Quand vous leur dites "C'est une église et pas un arrosoir !...", je defaillis. Positif. Quel talent, mon curé, quel talent ! Et "Dieu n'aime pas le sainfoin." Quel art !

Rachel got up and did this happy little shuffle, like she was some cheerful farmer chick who'd just stepped outside to find the hick she was in love with coming up the road with a calf under his arm or whatever. Why was she dancing? No reason. Just alive, I guess.

Religion is beyond the realm of logic, but if any priest, pundit or maulvi tries to justify his religion with logic, it sounds absurd and illogical.

Revenge is a dish best served in something microwaveable

Robot Boy Mr. an Mrs. Smith had a wonderful life. They were a normal, happy husband and wife. One day they got news that made Mr. Smith glad. Mrs. Smith would would be a mom which would make him the dad! But something was wrong with their bundle of joy. It wasn't human at all, it was a robot boy! He wasn't warm and cuddly and he didn't have skin. Instead there was a cold, thin layer of tin. There were wires and tubes sticking out of his head. He just lay there and stared, not living or dead. The only time he seemed alive at all was with a long extension cord plugged into the wall. Mr. Smith yelled at the doctor, "What have you done to my boy? He's not flesh and blood, he's aluminum alloy!" The doctor said gently, "What I'm going to say will sound pretty wild. But you're not the father of this strange looking child. You see, there still is some question about the child's gender, but we think that its father is a microwave blender." The Smith's lives were now filled with misery and strife. Mrs. Smith hated her husband, and he hated his wife. He never forgave her unholy alliance: a sexual encounter with a kitchen appliance. And Robot Boy grew to be a young man. Though he was often mistaken for a garbage can.