Quotes About Reality

But here's the first problem. If this is your only story, then it's the one you have most often told and retold, even if—as is the case here—mainly to yourself. The question then is: Do all these retellings bring you closer to the truth of what happened, or move you further away? I'm not sure.

Dovrebbe apparirci ovvio come il tempo per noi non agisca affatto da fissativo, ma piuttosto da solvente. Solo che credere questo non conviene, non serve; non aiuta a tirare avanti; perciò fingiamo di non saperlo.

This last isn't something I actually saw, but what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.

And if that was so, then perhaps the argument could be extended. For example, to say that you had once been happy, and to believe what you were saying, was the same as actually to have been happy. Could that be true? No, that was surely specious. On the other hand, the emotional record was not like a history book; its truths were constantly changing, and true even when incompatible.

Jenže vzpomínky, které nám nakonec z?stanou, se pÃ…â"¢ece pokaždé neshodují s tím, co jsme vidÄ›li na vlastní o?i.

When we killed - or exiled - God we also killed ourselves. Did we notice sufficiently at the time? No God, no afterlife, no us. We were right to kill Him, of course, this long-standing imaginary friend of ours. And we weren't going to get an afterlife anyway. But we sawed off the branch we were sitting on. And the view from there, from that height - even if it was only the illusion of a view - wasn't so bad.

Istorija yra nugal?toj? melas, tik reikia pridurti, jog tai ir nugal?t?j? saviapgaul?.

This last isn't something I actually saw, but what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.

The truth is not kind.

And in your opinion, the notion that everything works out in the end, and the counter-notion that nothing ever does, are both equally banal.

As a rule the Holloywood pattern for English actors is simple. They are delighted to go, they are told there is a lot of work for them if they stick it out, they tell everyone how fabulous it is, they spend all their money - and then they come home. It seems to take from two to six years.

She was at that period of her life that almost everyone must pass through, when childhood is done with and a faux maturity, untrammeled by experience, gives one a sense that anything is possible until the arrival of real adulthood proves conclusively that it is not.

They say one sign of growing old is that the past becomes more real than the present and already I can feel the fingers of those lost decades closing their grip round my imagination, making more recent memory seem somehow greyer and less bright.

Lies are so complicated, she thought. And not for the first time.

Vale, entonces un recuerdo. ¿Tiene que ser feliz? —No. Prefiero que sea verdadero a que sea feliz.

Finally she said, When I grow up, I'm going to live out here. I'll probably be a Miss Somebody, too... Don't grow up, I told her. It only gets more confusing.

Perhaps that's its strength. The flexibility. The fragility. Appearances…" He paused. "…are often deceiving.

The one thing she'd been able to count on her entire life was her cleverness. She was so often right. It was humbling and disorienting to realize that she in truth knew nothing at all. One only ever saw a fraction of someone, whatever it was they chose to show you, and extrapolated a whole person from that. And saw them through a prism of one's own prejudices.

Life is short, Tommy. Short and dangerous. A bit like you.

For a moment in time she'd expected his narrative to end the way Cinderella's story had, and not the way a Greek myth would.

the biggest lie people tell themselves is that they prefer to know the truth.

Miracles don't happen. You make them happen. They're not wishes or dreams or candles on a cake. They're not impossible. Reality is real. It's totally and completely under my control.

Dreams are for little girls to whisper to each other. They don't really come true. I'm a fully grown woman now, Frances Catherine. I don't imagine impossible things.

Anger and hate are destructive emotions and neither will change the facts.