Quotes About Unreal

It all began to seem unreal, the chairs and the waiting and the dead girl at home in the closet.

It had happened with the sudden catastrophe of a dream – and with all the unreal horror of a dream.

Todo había ocurrido con la catastrófica rapidez de un sueño... y con el irreal horror de una pesadilla.

Everything was brighter and more colorful in those years, as if my childhood was ending in an explosion of unreal passion that made my life feel sacred and holy.

I'm stuck struggling in the cold water, and all I can do is grieve, grieve, in the hoar necessitous horror of the morning, bitterly I hate myself, bitterly it's too late yet while I feel better I still feel ephemeral and unreal and unable to straighten my thoughts or even really grieve, in fact I feel too stupid to be really bitter, in short I don't know what I'm doing and I'm being told what to do...

Unreal friendship may turn to real But real friendship, once ended, cannot be mended

If a star football player can have a mythical girlfriend, why can't I have a mythical Congress?

Female is real, and it's sex, and femininity is unreal, and it's gender.

Insincerity in a man's own heart must make all his enjoyments, all that concerns him, unreal; so that his whole life must seem like a merely dramatic representation.

I'd rather be romantic than jaded. At least I've had a love life. Even if the romance does seem unreal sometimes, in retrospect. All that hard work of falling into love and falling out of it again. None of it leaves any trace, not visibly.

Truth is inseperable from the illusory belief that from the figures of the unreal one day, in spite of all, real deliverance will come.

De repente, hasta la muerte y los que están muriendo bajan desfilando con flores de plástico como en el vídeo de algo que no ocurrió.

the fact remains that the Outsider is the rarity among human beings—which places him rather in the position of the soldier who claims he is the only one in step in the platoon. What about all the millions of men and women in our modern cities; are they really all the Outsider claims they are: futile, unreal, unutterably lost without knowing it?

it must be remembered that we are looking at these things from the Outsider's point of view, and it is Roquentin who condemns men who think their existence is necessary as salauds. The Outsider's business is to discriminate between real and unreal, necessary and unnecessary.

The tragedy of her death was not that it made one, now and then and very intensely, unhappy. It was that it made her unreal; and us solemn, and self-conscious. We were made to act parts that we did not feel; to fumble for words that we did not know. It obscured, it dulled.

All looked distant and peaceful and strange. The shore seemed refined, far away, unreal. Already the little distance they had sailed had put them far from it and given it the changed look, the composed look, of something receding in which one has no longer any part.

They became part of that unreal but penetrating and exciting universe which is the world seen through the eyes of love

Fragrant, dreaming, unreal, and having to do, terribly, with love.

So, then, in general metaphysical terms, our expression is that, like a purgatory, all that is commonly called "existence," which we call Intermediateness, is quasi-existence, neither real nor unreal, but expression of attempt to become real, or to generate for or recruit a real existence.

and I think that everything in life is kind of unreal, isn't it?

Speculative fiction includes all stories that take place in a setting contrary to known reality.

Out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known

Whatever reality is there - and you can see most of your realities as the result of your choices - you can make a glorious experience, or you can be victimized by not tuning in, and by judging it in unreal terms. Think of the logic here. How foolish ever to allow yourself to be upset or immobilized over things when your upset will do nothing.

Never the less, it is no light thing to enter into a profession absolutely foreign and alien to the people among which one's lot is cast; a profession which seems as dim and faraway and unreal as the shores of Europe.