Quotes About Reality

But one's convictions as to the nature of reality must also represent one's limitations as to the perception of it. And then I just stopped worrying about it. I accepted the fact that I would die without really knowing where it was that I had been and that was okay. Well. Almost.

You dont always get what you want. But then you dont always want what you get so it's probably pretty much of a wash.

El secreto, he said, es que en este mundo la máscara es la que es verdadera

But what is your life? Can you see it? It vanishes at its own appearance. Moment by moment. Until it vanishes to appear no more. When you look at the world is there a point in time when the seen becomes the remembered? How are they separate? It is that which we have no way o show. It is that which is missing from our map and from the picture that it makes. And yet is all we have.

What is wrong with story is that it is not a true story. Men have in their minds a picture of how the world will be. How they will be in that world. The world may be many different ways for them but there is one world that will never be and that is the world they dream of.

In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.

They have a long life, dreams. I have dreams now which I had as a young girl. They have an odd durability for something not quite real. Do you think they mean anything? She looked surprised. Oh yes, she said. Dont you? Well. I dont know. They're in your head. She smiled again. I suppose I dont consider that to be the condemnation you do.

Pues la existencia tiene su propio orden y eso no puede comprenderlo ninguna inteligencia humana, siendo que la propia inteligencia no es sino un hecho entre otros.

In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure, death will. The world is quite ruthless in selection between the dream and the reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing, the world lies waiting.

Under the hooves of the horses the alabaster sand shaped itself in whorls strangely symmetric like iron fillings in a field and these shapes flared and drew back again, resonating upon that harmonic ground and then turning to swirl away over the playa. As if the very sediment of things contained yet some residue of sentience. As if in the transit of those riders were a thing so profoundly terrible as to register even to the uttermost granulation of reality

Die Geschichte ist eine Sammlung von Papier. Ein paar verblassende Erinnerungen. Nach einer Weile ist das, was nicht geschrieben steht, nie geschehen.

Lo que es verdad de un hombre, dijo el juez, es verdad de muchos.

We might have very different notions about the nature of the oncoming night. But as darkness descends does it matter?

This is what Great Art does. It becomes more real than the real, more true than the truth.

The secret truth: in this world the mask is what is true.

If the world has a mind then it's all worse than we thought.

You're not the only one that's right. The ragman looked up warily. We're all right, said Suttree. We're all fucked, said the ragman.

It just sounds like superstition to me. And what is that? Superstition? Yes. Well. I guess it's when you believe in things that dont exist. Such as tomorrow? Or yesterday? Such as the dreams of somebody you dreamt. Yesterday was here and tomorrow's comin.

The world will take your life. But above all and lastly the world does not know that you are here. You think that you understand this. But you dont. Not in your heart you dont. If you did you would be terrified. And you're not. Not yet. And now, good night.

Men have in their minds a picture of how the world will be. How they will be in that world. The world may be many dierent ways for them but there is one world that will never be and that is the world they dream of.

In their recollections dreams and life acquire an oddly merging egality.

Well. Nothin's forever. Some things are. Yeah. Some things are.

Why are you by yourself? I'm not by myself. I'm schizophrenic.

The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning. The