Quotes About Reality

Nothing is right or wrong but thinking makes it so. You no longer believe in reality but in thinking. And when you are pushed off the dead end your thoughts go with you and they are of no use to you.

I believe everything you tell me, but I know that it will all turn out differently.

The life which, if i were still a man with pride, honor, ambition and so forth, would seem like the bottom rung of degredation. It's a negative reality, just like death -- a sort of heaven without the pain and terror of dying.

Nothing that had happened to me thus far had been sufficient to destroy me; nothing had been destroyed except my illusions. I myself was intact. The world was intact.

We are, most of us, sleepwalkers, and we die without ever opening our eyes.

El caos es la partitura en la que está escrita la realidad.

I expected so much, so much of the world and it all fell short.

que sólo quienes, como él, son sensibles a la alquimia del sonido y los sentidos, son capaces de transformar la realidad negativa de la vida en las formas substanciales y significativas del arte. Sólo quienes pueden admitir la luz en sus entrañas pueden expresar lo que hay en el corazón.

What is not in the open street is false, derived, that is to say, literature.

Enquanto vivermos com a consciência de nós próprios, nunca conseguiremos lidar com o mundo

what we have brought to perfection, in our zeal to escape the true reality, is a complete arsenal of destruction; when we have rid ourselves of the suicidal mania for a beyond we shall begin the life of here and now which is reality and which is sufficient unto itself. We shall have no need for art or religion because we shall be in ourselves a work of art...this is the way in which man will overcome his broken state.

I might say, in passing, that my life seems to have been one long search for the Mara who would devour all the others and give them significant reality.

Life will continue to be a hell as long as the people who make up the world shut their eyes to reality. Switching from one ideology to another is a useless game.

Looking at a fragment of The Millennium the other day, I pointed out . . . how hallucinatingly real were the oranges.

The oranges of Bosch's Millennium . . . exhale this dreamlike reality which constantly eludes us and which is the very substance of life.

Reality is here and now, everywhere, gleaming through every reflection that meets the eye.... Everybody is a neurotic, down to the last man and woman. The healer, or the analyst, if you like, is only a super-neurotic.... To be cured we must rise from our graves and throw off the cerements of the dead. Nobody can do it for another--it is a private affair which is best done collectively.

Pour une raison ou pour une autre, l'homme cherche le miracle, et pour l'accomplir, il pataugera dans le sang. Il se gorgera d'une débauche d'idées, il se réduira à n'être qu'une ombre, si, pour une seule seconde de sa vie, il peut fermer les yeux sur la hideur de la réalité. Il endure tout -disgrâce, humiliation, pauvreté, guerre, crime, ennui- croyant que demain quelque chose arrivera, un miracle! qui rendra la vie tolérable.

I know too how easily desire may be converted to deed. Even when I close my eyes I must be careful how I dream and of what, for now only the thinnest veil separates dream from reality.

Eu nu am fost niciodat? un ganditor.Ganditul nu te duce nic?ieri.E o am?gire.Ganditul te face morbid.

Ceea ce nu se afl? în strad? este fals, mijlocit, altfel spus, literatur?.

For some reason or other man looks for the miracle, and to accomplish it he will wade through blood. He will debauch himself with ideas, he will reduce himself to a shadow if for only one second of his life he can close his eyes to the hideousness of reality. Everything is endured—disgrace, humiliation, poverty, war, crime, ennui—in the belief that overnight something will occur, a miracle, which will render life tolerable.

Perhaps our refusal to face reality is the only ill we suffer from, and all the rest but illusion and delusion.

Nothing that had happen to me thus far had been sufficient to destroy me; nothing had been destroyed except my illusions. I myself was intact. The world was intact.

Hayallerden uzak m? ya?amal? yoksa onlarla birlikte mi? ??te mesele!