Quotes About Reality

You can invent any fiction and call it a life. Sometimes, when you don't ask questions, it's not because you are afraid that someone will lie to your face. It's because you're afraid they'll tell you the truth.

when you're a point, all you see is the point. When you're a line, all you see is the line and the point. When you're in three dimensions, you see three dimensions and lines and points. Just because we can't see a fourth dimensions doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It just means we haven't reached it yet.

I thought I knew this world. I thought I could control it. But just when you think you've got your life by the reins, that's when it's most likely to run away from you.

It is remarkable how events and truths can be reshaped, like wax that's sat too long in the sun. There is no such thing as a fact. There is only how you saw the fact, in a given moment. How you reported the fact. How your brain processed that fact. There is no extrication of the storyteller from the story.

I was a writer. A child who believed in fairy tales. Not the silly Disney ones your mother read to you, but the ones with blood and thorns, with girls who knew that love could kill you just as often as it could set you free.

could not be blamed just because no one ever mentioned that once you closed the storybook, Cinderella still had to do laundry and clean the toilet and take care of the crown prince.

The moral of the story is that sometimes, you can attempt to make all the difference in the world, and it still is like trying to stem the tide with a sieve. The moral of this story is that no matter how much we try, no matter how much we want it... some stories just don't have a happy ending

What people said they would do and what people actually did were two very different things.

A child who believed in fairy tales. Not the silly Disney ones your mother read to you, but the ones with blood and thorns, with girls who knew that love could kill you just as often as it could set you free.

We believe what we want to, what we need to. The corollary is that we choose not to see what we'd rather pretend doesn't exist.

matter how spectacular we want our children to be, no matter how perfect we pretend they are, they are bound to disappoint.

There is no grief amount wolves. Nature has a wonderful way of making you face reality. You can sit and weep if you want, but you are likely to be killed while you're still in your mourning, because you let your guard down.

All writers start with a layer of truth, don't they? If not, their stories would be nothing but spools of cotton candy, a fleeting taste wrapped around nothing but air.

It was hard to separate the fact from the fiction...

The terrible thing about falling in love is that real life always gets in the way.

I used to wonder about the fake pictures that came in frames you buy at the store—ladies with smooth brown hair and show-me smiles, grapefruit-headed babies on their sibling's knees—people who in real life probably were strangers brought together by a talent scout to be a phony family. Maybe it's not so different from real photos, after all.

This year in school she read Romeo and Juliet, and she told me pragmatically that Romeo was a wimp. He should have just taken Juliet and run away with her, swallowed his pride and worked at some medieval McDonald's. What about the poetry, I asked her. What about the tragedy? And Rebecca told me that that's all very well and good but it isn't the way things happen in real life.

People are never who they seem to be

The corollary is that we choose not to see what we'd rather pretend doesn't exist.

You can put a pig in a ball gown, Minka. That doesn't make it a debutante.

Motinyst? nuspalvino Leis?s gyvenim? ryškesn?mis spalvomis; ji netilpdavo savam kaily nuo suvokimo, kad jos gyvenimas n? negal?t? b?ti sklidinesnis. Nesuprasdavo anuomet, kad kai tavo vizija esti tokia ryški ir tikroviška, gali ja susižeisti. Kad tik patyrusi toki? pilnatv? gali iki galo suprasti, kaip skauda jausti tuštum?.

were two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations. Once, at a neighborhood dinner party, Lacy had asked him what happened if you had no expectations. You couldn't divide by zero. Did that mean if you just let yourself roll with all of life's punches, you could never be happy?

She had nothing left inside. She'd given it all to her son. And that was the greatest heartbreak of all—no matter how spectacular we want our children to be, no matter how perfect we pretend they are, they are bound to disappoint. As it turns out, kids are more like us than we think: damaged, through and through.

I know what love is, but only theoretically. I don't feel it the way other people do.