Quotes About Unreal

I like photography because it is a reality medium, unlike drawing which is unreal. I like to mess with reality...to bend reality. Some of my works beg the question of is it real or not?

I wanted to represent the world as a temporary art installation continuously changing. I wanted to consider it unreal and unfinished, judge and transform it, a possibility that only art gives us.

I want art that makes the world seem more unreal. I want fiction that can crumble the world and build it back into something new.

JAY: No really. Be secure. Pretend I'm a sperm cell. Here. I take the string out of the... hood of my sweatshirt, affix it to my behind for a tail, like so... LENORE: What in God's name are you doing? JAY: Pretend, Lenore. Be an ovum. Be strong. Let me hypothetically batter at you. Batter batter. Surrender to the unreal of the real interior. LENORE: Are you supposed to be a sperm, wriggling your sweatshirt-string like that? JAY: I can feel the strength of your membrane, Lenore.

Because what is civilized life but an imposition of unreal standards upon flawed and defective human beings by other human beings no less flawed and defective? It has seemed to me that there is a rottenness to it that I have constantly wanted to kick against and to overset.' He stopped again, breathing slowly, trying to marshal the complexities of his own feelings.

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

Law of economy: nothing is waste. Even the unreal. What a sublimity in the process.

It is real in such an intense way that it feels unreal, too.

We have been fed such unreal standards of beauty that we have now become victims and part of this process that one cannot break.

It's all so surreal seeing yourself in a video game.

Reality is, you know, the tip of an iceberg of irrationality that we've managed to drag ourselves up onto for a few panting moments before we slip back into the sea of the unreal.

Les 'hommes de bonne volonté', feel Their politics perhaps unreal And all they have believed untrue, Are tempted to surrender to The grand apocalyptic dream In which the persecutors scream

Sometimes I think I am going mad. I live for days in the mystery and tears of things so that the commonest object, the most familiar face- even my own- become ghostly, unreal, enigmatic. I get into an attitude of almost total scepticism, nescience, solipsism, in a world of dumb, sphinx-like things that cannot explain themselves. The discovery of how I am situated- a sentient being on a globe in space overshadows me. I wish I were just nothing.

And meanwhile growing up. All according to plan, Wasn't it, Lord? Under the freezing sky All lands, the real and unreal, were ecstasy

How? Well, if a girl has had enough of every man who exists, her only remaining desire could be for a man who doesn't exist at all . . .

It was a village where I come from, obviously a lot smaller than London, so the support was unreal and close by. To come away to a new challenge, a new level, knowing that I was going to have to step up massively - not having those people around me was a test.

It's something that I am going over in my head about the whole video game thing, and whether you support violence by being in a film like this. I mean, to me, it's incredibly unreal and it's all about the action, and just explosions.

If war is the test of reality, than all poetry is unreal; but in that case unreality is a virtue.

If war is the test of reality, then all poetry is unreal; but in that case unreality is a virtue.

The phenomenon of dreaming ... helped to build up the notion of an unreal or spiritual world; and in general, all the conditions of savage dawn-life so strongly conduced toward a feeling of the supernatural, that we need not wonder at the thoroughness with which man's very hereditary essence has become saturated with religion and superstition.

T]ime is indifferent: its existence or non-existence depends only on the will. But this will is not its own will:- not only because a thing cannot will its non-existence, but for the prior reason that the world itself is destitute of will. Thus the nothingness of the world expresses the power of the will. … The existence of the world is therefore a momentary, arbitrary, i.e., unreal existence.

Doves coo in the rafters above us as she sits down on the blanket, her loathed dress whispering around her. She pops a grape into her mouth and sighs. This is so unreal. I feel like a princess. She couldn't have given me a better opening for the conversation I've been hoping to have. Funny, I say. I was thinking the same thing. Delilah frowns. You feel like a princess too?

You're as fake as a three dollar bill!