Alfred Jarry Quotes

’While there is life, there’s hope,’ he cried; ‘Then why such haste?’ so groaned and died.

We who think we are about to die will laugh at anything.

Right, well, he'd been sick for a while and his nurse said to him, 'You seem to be feeling better this morning,' and Isben looked at her and said, 'On the contrary,' and then he died.

A man walks into a hospital feeling unwell and the doctor says: "Sorry, you've only got three minutes to live." The man said: "Can you do something for me?" "Yes," he said. "I'll boil you an egg."

The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!

Dying's a boring side effect.

But Grover’s voice was already growing fainter. ‘Sweet dreams. Don’t let me die!

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

I would fain die a dry death.

Did he die well?" No, I thought. Nobody did. They just died.

Nothing matters. Nothing matters.

We brought nothing into this world and it's certain we can carry nothing out.

There's a remedy for everything except death.

You are going to end up as one of those sad old men who poke around in rubbish bins.” “I’m going to end up in a hole in the ground... And so are you. So are we all.

I finally did not understand if we are living to survive or we are living to die!

I think the dying pray at the last not "please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at the door.

What good is money to you if you're going to die? It's not often that money can save someone's life.

I think we are just insects, we live a bit and then die and that’s the lot. There’s no mercy in things. There’s not even a Great Beyond. There’s nothing.

Why am I dying to live if I'm just living to die.

We are buried when we're born. The world is a place of graves occupied and graves potential. Life is what happens while we wait for our appointment with the mortician.

Life is absolutely unbearable. And we're going to die.

But the truth, he knows, is otherwise. His pleasure in living has been snuffed out. Like a leaf on a stream, like a puffball on a breeze, he has begun to float towards his end. He sees it quite clearly, and it fills him with (the word will not go away) despair. The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.

I think actual death will be a lot easier than dying on stage. Cause - you know - if you do [actual death] right, you can go looking good. Maybe with a little quip [like]: 'I loved everybody.' But dying on stage...Oh, God!

What would I do if I knew I only had six months to live? Type faster.