#absurd

No people find each other more absurd than lovers ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#love #lover #people #relationships #love

Never was a cornflake girl; Thought it was a good solution: hanging with the raisin girls. ↗

— Tori Amos

#bizarre #bizarre

I talked to him on Christmas, and again on March 5th. Neither one of us hung up the phone that whole time. 
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#awkward #christmas #conversation #dead-air #march-

God is the supreme uncreated light of which Wisdom is born, but there was never a time when God's Wisdom did not exist. ↗

— Merritt Y. Hughes

#religion #wisdom #religion

That pompous phrase (graphic novel) was thought up by some idiot in the marketing department of DC. I prefer to call them Big Expensive Comics. ↗

— Alan Moore

#novel

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. ↗

— Tim Burton

#poetry #life

Snarling an oath from an Icelandic saga, I reclaimed my place at the head of the queue. "Oy!" yelled a punk rocker, with studs in his cranium. "There's a fackin' queue!" Never apologize, advises Lloyd George. Say it again, only this time, ruder. "I know there's a 'fackin' queue'! I already queued in it once and I am not going to queue in it again just because Nina Simone over there won't sell me a ruddy ticket!" A colored yeti in a clip-on uniform swooped. "Wassa bovver?" "This old man here reckons his colostomy bag entitles him to jump the queue," said the skinhead, "and make racist slurs about the lady of Afro-Caribbean extraction in the advance-travel window." I couldn't believe I was hearing this. ↗

— David Mitchell

#humor #london #punk #racism #skinhead

Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas. J'ai reçu un télégramme de l'asile : « Mère décédée. Enterrement demain. Sentiments distingués. » Cela ne veut rien dire. C'était peut-être hier. ↗

— Albert Camus

#existentialism #nihilism #existentialism

An ostentatious man will rather relate a blunder or an absurdity he has committed, than be debarred from talking of his own dear person. ↗

— Joseph Addison

#blunder #committed #dear #debarred #his

I really enjoy playing that everyman part because that part is us, the audience. And you need somebody inside a comedy to tether the absurdity to reality. ↗

— Jason Bateman

#audience #because #comedy #enjoy #everyman