absurd [Theme] Page 4

I believe that the theatre of the absurd is a perfectly legitimate existence among other theatres. The absurdity of their laws, much more clear than the art of life. Because both explores life. In the absurdity of quite other laws, much more dense, but they are much more mathematical. They exactly require.

Dimensional transcendentalism is preposterous, but always works.

Mr. President, I beg you, if we don't give bears the right to vote, they will rebel and take the Congress. And then we have to perform at carnivals in hats.

Solomon Grundy,
Monday born
Tuesday baptized
on Wednesday was married,
in Thursday's crippled,
on Friday ill
on Saturday died,
on Sunday funeral,
and life has flown,
consider, for a week.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday
Christened on Tuesday,
Married on Wednesday,
Ill on Thursday,
Worse on Friday,
Died on Saturday,
Buried on Sunday,
That was the end
Of Solomon Grundy.

Everything has a cause, they are even absurd.

- Just tell her exactly what you told me: you're her husband and you came from an alternate reality.
- And can I even tell her that you're married to a fire-breathing dragon? And you have little cracolici mutants?

You know the worst incident that happened during the four years of my work? The worst? Owl attacked the head of Helen Gillespie, because he mistook her hair nest.

- There are no rooms available, you will live in my.
- The absurd name of "Saint-Petersburg"...
- Well, it's more that around the corner there is a Laundry, called "Russian-French-English Laundry name of Belgian king albert".

The absurdity is striking in its scale, becoming the norm. The economy needs to revive, but instead the world is fighting with offshore companies, deciding, apparently, to finish off the economy alive.

War would be absurd, I think, when the technique reaches an absolute hit.

The absurd is the gap between the spirit, which is the desire, and the world, which does not justify the hopes placed on it.

No, we don't know, I have to know each other better, to talk.
- Tell me if you want.
- So, I was born on a cold winter night, on the fourth day of August, nineteen hours, twenty minutes, that is, without forty-eight, here in this room. Downstairs, my mother walked nervously up and down up and down, Smoking a cigar. My mother was a tall man, blond hair, like my grandmother. And my grandfather, on the contrary, dark.

The fate of new truth is this: at the beginning of its existence, it always seems to be heresy.

Life will be lived all the better, the fuller it will be missing the point.