Quotes About Reality

The tomatoes and string beans were but chilled shadows. Tasteless shadows. Nor was there any taste to the coffee or crackers. Maybe because of the morning sun? The light of morning decomposes everything.

She leaves behind a damp pillow, wet with her tears. You touch the warmth with your hand and watch the sky outside gradually lighten. Far away a crow caws. The Earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams. And everyone's living in them.

things never work out like you think they will, but that's what makes life interesting

In dreams lie responsibilities.

When it came down to it, though, could anything be completely correct, or completely incorrect? We lived in a world where rain might fall thirty percent, or seventy percent, of the time. Truth was probably no different. There could be thirty percent or seventy percent truth.

It's as though something happened to make me think that things happened that never really happened at all.

We were merely observers, getting totally absorbed in some exciting movie, our palms all sweaty, only to find that, after the houselights came on and we exited the theater, the thrilling afterglow that coursed through us ultimately meant nothing whatsoever.

Somos seres imperfectos que vivimos en un mundo imperfecto

An imperfect person living an imperfect, limited life.

Todo el mundo crece, lo quiera o no. Todos nos hacemos mayores, y así nos enfrentamos a nuestros problemas. Lidiamos con ellos hasta que morimos. Siempre ha sido así y siempre lo será. No eres la única que tiene problemas.

I wake up, but where? I don't just think this, I actually voice the question to myself: Where am I? As if I didn't know: I'm here. In my life. A feature of the world that is my existence.

Truth is often accompanied by intense pain, and almost no one is looking for painful truths

They were too clear and detailed to have been a fantasy, and too whole and beautiful to have been real.

She's got to be a ghost. First of all, she's just too beautiful. Her features are gorgeous, but it's not only that. She's so perfect I know she can't be real. She's like a person who stepped right out of a dream. The purity of her beauty gives me a feeling close to sadness –a very natural feeling, though one that only something extraordinary could produce.

I have to somehow get connected to reality again, he thought, or else I won't be me anymore. I'll become a man who doesn't exist.

We had been playing our assigned roles on the office stage, but stepping down from the stage, abandoning the images that we had been projecting there, we were both just unstable, awkward lumps of flesh, warm pieces of meat kitted out with digestive tracts and hearts and brains and reproductive organs.

I seriously believed I could escape myself–as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What's missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I'm still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I'll come to defining myself.

I was living someone else's life, not my own. How much of this person I called myself was really me? And how much was not? These hands clutching the steering wheel - what percentage of them could I really call my own? The scenery outside - how much of it was real? The more I thought about it, the less I seemed to understand.

If I sound as if I'm always predicting ominous things, it's because I'm a pragmatist. I use deductive reasoning to generalize, and I suppose this sometimes ends up sounding like unlucky prophecies. You know why? Because reality's just the accumulation of ominous prophecies come to life. You have to only open a newspaper on any given day and weigh the good news versus the bad, and you'll see what I mean.

I probably still haven't completely adapted to the world. I don't know, I feel like this isn't the real world. The people, the scene: they just don't seem real to me.

All I can do is live the life I have. I can't trade it in for a new one. However strange and misshapen it might be, this is it for the gene carrier that is me.

There are plenty of things in history that are best left in the shadows. Accurate knowledge does not improve people's lives. The objective does not necessarily surpass the subjective, you know. Reality does not necessarily extinguish fantasy.

Lumea in care traim noi nu e decat un urias apartament de prezentare.Intri, te asezi, bei un ceai , admiri privelistea de la geam, multumesti si pleci.

Reality recedes until you can't tell who's sane and who's not.