A writer never takes a vacation. For a writer life consists of either writing or thinking about writing

— Eugène Ionesco

BERGER: And you consider all this natural? 
DUD ARD: What could be more natural than a rhinoceros? 
BERGER: Yes, but for a man to turn into a rhinoceros is abnormal beyond question. 
DUD ARD: Well, of course, that's a matter of opinion ... BERGER: It is beyond question, absolutely beyond question! 
DUD ARD: You seem very sure of yourself. Who can say where the normal stops and the abnormal begins? Can you personally define these conceptions of normality and abnormality? Nobody has solved this problem yet, either medically or philosophically. You ought to know that. 
BERGER: The problem may not be resolved philosophically -- but in practice it's simple. They may prove there's no such thing as movement ... and then you start walking ... [he starts walking up and down the room] ... and you go on walking, and you say to yourself, like Galileo, 'E PUR is move' ... DUD ARD: You're getting things all mixed up! Don't confuse the issue. In Galileo's case it was the opposite: theoretic and scientific thought proving itself superior to mass opinion and dogmatism. 
BERGER: [quite lost] What does all that mean? Mass opinion, dogmatism -- they're just words! I may be mixing everything up in my head, but you're losing yours. You don't know what's normal and what isn't anymore. I couldn't care less about Galileo ... I don't give a damn about Galileo. 
DUD ARD: You brought him up in the first place and raised the whole question, saying that practice always had the last word. Maybe it does, but only when it proceeds from theory! The history of thought and science proves that. BERGER: [more and more furious] It doesn't prove anything of the sort! It's all gibberish, utter lunacy! 
DUD ARD: There again we need to define exactly what we mean by lunacy ... BERGER: Lunacy is lunacy and that's all there is to it! Everybody knows what lunacy is. And what about the rhinoceroses -- are they practice or are they theory?

— Eugène Ionesco

I am sad when I think that the years go by like sacks that we mark "Returned Empty," sad when I think that we shall be separated from one another and from ourselves.

— Eugène Ionesco

I have always considered imaginative truth to be more profound, more loaded with significance, than every day reality... Everything we dream about, and by that I mean everything we desire, is true (the myth of Icarus came before aviation, and if Adler or Loriot started flying it is because all men have dreamed of flight). There is nothing truer than myth... Reality does not have to be: it is simply what is.

— Eugène Ionesco

I'll never waste my dreams by falling asleep. Never again.

— Eugène Ionesco

I read a page of Plato's great work. I can no longer understand anything, because behind the words on the page, which have their own heavenly brightness, to be sure, there shines an even brighter, an enormous, dazzling -why- that blots out everything, cancels out, destroys all meaning. All individual intelligence. When one has understood, one stops, satisfied with what one has understood. I do not understand. Understanding is far too little. To have understood is to be fixed, immobilized. It is as though one wanted to stop on one step in the middle of a staircase, or with one foot in the void and the other on the endless stair. But a mere why, a new why it can set one off again, can petrify what was petrified and everything starts flowing afresh. How can one understand? One cannot.

— Eugène Ionesco

Nothing is mightier than our why, nothing stands above it, because in the end there is a why to which no answer is possible. In fact, from why to why, from one step to the next, you get to the end of things. And it is only by travelling from one why to the next, as far as why that is unanswerable, that man attains the level of the creative principle, facing the infinite, equal to the infinite, maybe. So long as he can answer why he gets lost, he loses his way among things. 'Why this?' I answer, 'because that," and from one explanation to the next I reach the point where no explanation is satisfying, from one explanation to the next I reach zero, the absolute, where truth and falsehood are equivalent, become equal to one another, are identified with one another, cancel each other out in face of the absolute nothing. And so we can understand how all action, all choice, all history is justified, at the end of time, by a final cancelling-out. The why goes beyond everything. Nothing goes beyond the why, not even the nothing, because the nothing is not the explanation; when silence confronts us, the question to which there is no answer rings out in the silence. That ultimate why, that great why is like a light that blots out everything, but a blinding light; nothing more can be made out, there is nothing more to make out.

— Eugène Ionesco

Of course, not everything is unsayable in words, only the living truth.

— Eugène Ionesco

Oh words, what crimes are committed in your name?~Jack or The Submission

— Eugène Ionesco

Realism falls short of reality. It shrinks it, attenuates it, falsifies it; it does not take into account our basic truths and our fundamental obsessions: love, death, astonishment. It presents man in a reduced and estranged perspective. Truth is in our dreams, in the imagination.

— Eugène Ionesco