Anti-Climax Quotes

My favorite comedy is comedy where nothing is achieved and there is no point.

There's no drugs, no Tom in a dress, no psychiatrists.

She hadn't slain the dragon. Not at all. She hoped no one ever would.

When you get a trophy, why go jumping and crying? Winning's a great feeling, but everything else is an anti-climax.

If he'd been a hero, he would have taken the opportunity to say, "That's what I call sorted!" Since he wasn't a hero, he threw up.

This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.

My notion of a great novel is something like a five-hundred-page shaggy-dog story, with only the punch line omitted.

She dreams a lot. She dreams of Ondines and falling maidens and houses burning in the night. But search her dreams all you like and you'll never find Prince Charming. No knight on a white horse gallops into her dreams to carry her away. When she dreams of love, she dreams of smashed potatoes.

The wacky thing about those bad guys is that you can't count on them to be obvious. They forget to wax their mustaches and goatees, leave their horns at home, send their black hats to the dry cleaner's. They're funny like that.

The "happening" operates by creating an asymmetrical network of surprises, without climax or consummation, this is the alogism of dreams rather than the logic of most art.

Sometimes go around with guys who are scuffling -- for awhile. But usually they end up marrying some cat with a factory. This is the way world ends, not with a whim but a banker.

This may be a dream, but I'll say it anyway: I was supposed to be married last year, and I bought a gown. When I meet Nelson Mandela, I shall put on this gown and have the train of it removed and put aside, and kiss the ground that he walks on and then kiss his feet.

Slowly, but very deliberately, the brooding edifice of seduction, creaking and incongruous, came into being, a vast Heath Robinson mechanism, dually controlled by them and lumbering gloomily down vistas of triteness. With a sort of heavy-fisted dexterity the mutually adapted emotions of each of them became synchronized, until the unavoidable anti-climax was at hand.

A film fable so structured that all alchemical searchings are clearly filmwise (gold being discovered cinematically in each sequence ot mixed black-and-white and color) so that when the drama-discovery is actually made, it acts as a deliberate anti-climax of aesthetic perfection.

Getting dragged, kicking and screaming out of the ring, begging for mercy from whomever it is that fires me, and never be seen again. That's how I wanna go out. Haha, yeah, I don't want any.. hero's goodbye, or a big send off. I don't want a retirement ceremony. That's not how I'm built, I just wanna disappear into the sunset and have people, 'Man, that guy was a jerk. Wow, I'm glad he's gone.'