Quotes About Reality

Gerald Foos's explanation in his journal--he was 'only an observer and not a reporter,' and he 'really didn't exist as far as the male and female subjects were concerned'--were explanations that didn't surprise me because of his often-expressed notion that he was a fractured individual, a hybridized combination of the Voyeur and Gerald Foos

I'm not sure this is a world I belong in anymore. I'm not sure that I want to wake up.

It's funny the things you think you're scared of until they're upon you, and then you're not.

Life is a big fat gigantic stinking mess, that's the beauty of it, too.

It takes certain kind of naiveté, or perhaps just stupidity, to know things will end and still hope otherwise.

En los libros y las películas, las historias siempre terminan cuando las dos personas finalmente tienen su romántico beso. La parte del vivieron-felices-para- siempre solo se supone.

Rock star. The words are so full of smoke and mirrors that it's impossible to find a real person behind them. But I am a rock star. I have the bank account of a rock star and the platinum records of a rock star and the girlfriend of a rock star. But I fucking hate that term, and hearing Mia pin it on me ups the level of my loathing to a new stratosphere.

He can't possibly live up to the person you've built him to be

But if that's what happens to normal, what hope is there for the rest of us?" I ask him.

It's the same thing that happens when I turn off a really good movie - one that I've lost myself to - which is that I'll be thrown back to my own reality and something hollow will settle in my chest. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie all over again just to recapture that feeling of being inside something real. Which, I know, doesn't make any sense.

La gente sólo cree lo que quiere creer.

Even if you find him. Even if he didn't leave you on purpose, he can't possibly live up to the person you've built him into.

How can you believe someone to be so beautiful and amazing and just about the most magical person you've ever known, when it turns out she was in such pain that she had to drink poison to rob her cells of oxygen until her heart had no choice but to stop beating?

Life is this big, fat, gigantic stinking mess. That's fhe beauty of it too.

Pictures can be pretty deceptive.

But sometimes the memories feel so real, so visceral, so personal, that I confuse them with my own.

There was no point getting all worked up about a kiss. One kiss does not a relationship make. I'd kissed boys before, and usually by the next day the kiss had evaporated like a dewdrop in the sun.

Her voice jolts me back to reality. Back to the reality of the past three years. There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

Every fiction has its base in fact,

Every fiction has its base in fact," he tells her.

It takes a certain kind of naiveté, or perhaps just stupidity, to know how things will end and still hope otherwise.

J'applaudis jusqu'à en avoir mal aux mains. J'applaudis comme si cela pouvait prolonger la soirée et la sensation que j'éprouve. Et parce que je sais qu'au moment où je vais arrêter, il arrivera la même chose qu'à la fin d'un beau film, quand le générique me renvoie à la réalité qui m'attend et me laisse le cœur serré.

The words are so full of smoke and mirrors that it's impossible to find a real person behind them.

Optics can be a bitch.