A Chinaman of the T’ang Dynasty – and, by which definition, a philosopher – dreamed he was a butterfly, and from that moment he was never quite sure that he was not a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese philosopher. Envy him; in his two-fold security.

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More from Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead

Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one, a moment, in childhood when it first occured to you that you don’t go on for ever. It must have been shattering – stamped into one’s memory. And yet I can’t remember it. It never occured to me at all.

We’re overawed, that’s our trouble. When it comes to the point we succumb to their personalities…

Rosencrantz: Fire!
Guildenstern: Where?
Rosencrantz: It’s all right – I’m demonstrating the misuse of free speech.

If I might make a suggestion – shut up and sit down. Stop being perverse.

A man talking sense to himself is no madder than a man talking nonsense not to himself.