Quotes About Surreal

If I had met Bette Midler, I wouldn't be answering these questions right now because I'd have spontaneously combusted and gone to heaven.

I Sellotape whole tins of sardines to my face at night, attach two squeezed lemon rinds to my armadillo-skinned elbows, and put cucumber on my eyes. By the time I'm finished, I look like a fruit salad with added fish. In the morning, the pillow is pretty much a write-off.

I actually keep having this one recurring dream where I'm a little number standing in a line of other numbers that look identical to me. Then there are more and more of these numbers that follow me, again and again and again. It's more of a nightmare.

And upsidedown in the earth a dead man walks upon my soles when I walk.

Turkish opium-eaters, it seems, are absurd enough to sit, like so many equestrian statues, on logs of wood as stupid as themselves.

Franz Kafka is Dead He died in a tree from which he wouldn't come down. Come down! they cried to him. Come down! Come down! Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. I can't, he finally said, with a note of wistfulness. Why? they cried. Stars spilled across the black sky. Because then you'll stop asking for me.

When I first met him, he had a recurrent nightmare that Henry Kissinger was chasing him with a knife, and I said it was really his father, and he said it was really Henry Kissinger, and I said it was his father and he said it was Henry Kissinger, and this went on for months until he started going to the Central American shrinkette, who said Henry Kissinger was really his younger sister.

If he lost his mind in Lunacy, would he ever have had it to lose?

Every night, we're all having multiple metaphysical experiences, wholly constructed by our subconscious. Almost one-third of our lives happens inside surreal mental projections we create without trying. A handful of highly specific dreams, such as slowly losing one's teeth, are experienced unilaterally by unrelated people in unconnected cultures. But these events are so personal and inscrutable that we've stopped trying to figure out what they mean.

Tyler gets me a job as a waiter, after that Tyler's pushing a gun in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die.

I fainted....and you ate my ass? You fed me my own ass?

Tyler and me at the edge of the roof, the gun in my mouth, I'm wondering how clean this gun is.

Right now, me getting killed would be redundant. ... You could stab a knife right through my heart and you'd be too late. ... Right now, getting killed would be a breath of spring.

My goldfish is swimming around all excited inside the fishbowl on the fridge so I reach up and drop a Valium in its water.

These are Tyler's words coming out of my mouth. I am Tyler's mouth. I am Tyler's hands.

My hands are numb. I can't feel my face. My tongue be­longs to some­body else.

The lye clinging in the exact shape of Tyler's kiss is a bonfire or a branding iron or an atomic pile meltdown on my hand at the end of a long, long road I picture miles away from me. Tyler tells me to come back and be with him. My hand is leaving, tiny and on the horizon at the end of the road.

Three weeks without sleep, and everything becomes an out-of-body experience.

Tyler stood next to me, both looking at the big O of my mouth with blood all around it and the little slit of my eye staring up at us from the floor, and Tyler says, Cool.

TYLER GETS ME a job as a waiter, after that Tyler's pushing a gun in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die.

I am totally Joe's Gallbladder.

She felt as if her body had been pumped full of helium, as if she might float right up into the sky if he let go of her hand. He

Hello sheriff, give me another nose

En el mundo hay algo peor que el Terror... Hay sueños que se vuelven realidad.