A Quote by Nikolai Gogol

Perfect nonsense goes on in the world. Sometimes there is no plausibility at all — © Nikolai Gogol
Perfect nonsense goes on in the world. Sometimes there is no plausibility at all
Sometimes I dream a sentence and write it down. It’s usually nonsense, but sometimes it seems a key to another world.
Well, you know this world isn't perfect.' 'No, you're wrong. This world IS perfect, people just come along and mess it up sometimes.
What is perfect? Journey, a thing doesn't have to be perfect to be fine. That goes for a picture. That goes for life....Things can be good enough.
Sometimes we desire absolute nonsense because in our stupidity we see in this nonsense the easiest way of attaining some conjectural good.
I never cared so much about making perfect sense. I wanted to make perfect nonsense.
Sometimes I get lonesome for a storm. A full blown storm where everything changes. The sky goes through four days in an hour, the trees wail, little animals skitter in the mud and everything gets dark and goes completely wild. But it is really God - playing music in his favourite cathedral in heaven - shattering stained glass - playing a gigantic organ - thundering on the keys - perfect harmony - perfect joy.
Many have referred to [Lewis] Carroll's rhymes as nonsense, but in my childhood world — Los Angeles in the '50s — they made perfect sense.
Life goes on." What nonsense, I thought, of course it doesn't. It's death that goes on.
We dream of the perfect wave, the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect love, and when we get there, we dream of something else, and the journey goes on.
There's huge amounts of nonsense that goes with everything surrounding music and art. All the things you have to do promote yourself - there's huge amounts of nonsense.
There are two ways of dealing with nonsense in this world. One way is to put nonsense in the right place; as when people put nonsense into nursery rhymes. The other is to put nonsense in the wrong place; as when they put it into educational addresses, psychological criticisms, and complaints against nursery rhymes or other normal amusements of mankind.
Nonsense is nonsense even when spoken by world-famous scientists.
The idea is that the savior came, and simply by the coming of the savior you're saved. Nonsense, human beings wish! If that were the case, we'd live in a perfect world.
Criticism talks a good deal of nonsense, but even its nonsense is a useful force. It keeps the question of art before the world, insists upon its importance.
Sometimes, I read that I'm this leftwing comic who just goes on about politics the whole time. Other times, I read that it's just surreal nonsense about crisps. It's both of those.
An angel! Nonsense! Everybody so describes his mistress; and yet I find it impossible to tell you how perfect she is, or why she is so perfect: suffice it to say she has captivated all my senses.
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