Quotes About Reality

People stick hearts on Valentine's cards and get married in white dresses and give each other flowers. They think love is every-thing going right. That's not love. That's self-indulgence. That's good luck. Love is when you walk into the burning building. Love is when the person who means most to you in the world is breathing through a mask and pissing in a bag. Love is when they no longer know your name.

Maybe George was fooling himself. Maybe old people always fooled themselves, pretending that the world was going to hell because it was easier than admitting they were being left behind, that the future was pulling away from the beach and they were standing on their little island bidding it good riddance, knowing in their hearts that there was nothing left for them to do but sit around on the shingle waiting for the big disease to come out of the undergrowth.

She understood now. You got married in spite of your wedding not because of it.

And what he meant was that maths wasn't like life because in life there are no straightforward answers at the end.

So often these days she seemed to hover between worlds, none of them wholly real.

You look around and it occurs to you that this isn't real, this is only a memory, that you could let go and topple into that great windy nothing and it wouldn't matter. What frightens you is that for a couple of seconds you can't remember where the present is and how to get back there.

Una mentira es cuando dices que ha pasado algo que no ha pasado. Pero siempre es una sola cosa la que pasa en un momento determinado y en un sitio determinado. Y hay un número infinito de cosas que no han pasado en ese momento y en ese sitio

But they are different because the pictures in my head are all pictures of things which really happened. But other people have pictures in their heads of things which aren't real and didn't happen.

No more things should be presumed to exist than are absolutely necessary.

And this mean time is a mystery, and not even a thing, and no one has solved the puzzle of what time is, exactly. And so if you get lost in time it is like being lost in a desert, except that you can't see the desert because it is not a thing. And this is why I like timetables, because they make sure you don't get lost in time.

Y cuando miramos las cosas pensamos que estamos simplemente mirándolas desde nuestros ojos como si mirásemos a través de pequeñas ventanas y que hay una persona dentro de nuestra cabeza, pero no es así. Estamos mirando una pantalla dentro de nuestra cabeza, como la pantalla de un ordenador.

And when we look at things we think we're just looking out of our eyes like we're looking out of little windows and there's a person inside our head, but we're not. We're looking at a screen inside our heads, like a computer screen.

And they'll vote for me because I'm the best liar, because I do it honestly, with a certain finesse. They know that lies and truth are very close, and that something beautiful rests between.

What is apparent is not always what is true.

Perhaps things are most beautiful when they are not quite real; when you look upon a scene as an outsider, and come to possess it in its entirety and forever; when you live in the present with the lucidity and feeling of memory; when, for want of connection, the world deepens and becomes art.

Truth is no rounder than a horse's eye.

You'll join me sooner than you know in a place with . . . no illusions, where the truth is the only architecture, the only color, the only sound--where that which we sense merely on occasion, and which takes us up and gives us the rare and beautiful glimpses of the things we truly love, flows in deep rivers and tumbles about like clouds in the sky.

What would happen if we took everything that exists in the universe, and divided it by one? I'll tell you. It would remain the same. So, therefore, how do we know that someone isn't doing that right now, at this very instant? It makes me shudder to think of it. We might be constantly divided by one, or multiplied by one for that matter, and we wouldn't even know it!

Whatever is, is, and whatever is not, is not

lies and truth are very close, and that something beautiful rests between.

People like that continually expose their souls to mortal danger in imagining that they are free of it, when, indeed, the only mortal danger for the spirit is to remain too long without it. The world is made of fire.

No one knows better than I that it's all here, and need not be explained or interpreted—just seized.

If we all shift to the simulacrum, then the simulacrum, for all practical purposes, becomes the real.

Voracious reading was like an anesthesia, numbing me to the harsh life around me.