Quotes About Reality

Love is a myth.' 'Love is a myth,' Grandfather Trout said. 'Like summer.' 'What?' 'In winter,'Grandfather Trout said, 'summer is a myth. A report, a rumor. Not to be believed in. Get it? Love is a myth. So is summer.

My friend Meyer, the economist, says that cretins are the only humans who can be absolutely certain of their own sanity. All the rest of us go rocketing along rickety rails over spavined bridges and along the edge of bottomless gorges. The man who believes himself free of any taint of madness is a damned liar.

He thought, as the locked truck slid and hit: Too much time staring at the pretty girl, Cherrik. Too much dreaming. Too old, Cherrik. Too damn old.

If the law can't protect us, then I'm dedicated to a myth, and I better wake up.

Molly Bea, she of the hard white breasts lightly dusted with golden freckles, would never be so humiliated by life because she could never become as deeply involved in the meaty toughness of life. She would never be victimized by her own illusions because they were not essential to her. She could always find new ones when the old ones wore out. But Cathy was stuck with hers. The illusion of love, magically changed to a memory of shame.

It is a practical world, Mr. Owen, and we have to do practical things.

I had that fractional part of consciousness left which gave me a remote and unimportant view of reality. The world was a television set at the other end of a dark auditorium, with blurred sound and a fringe area picture.

He guessed he had better face up to it and admit, watching the shabby rowboat approach the bank, that she was just too darn close to that picture he had been carting around in his head, of a girl he had never met, of a girl made up of bits and pieces of other girls known wisely and not too well.

You design the vulgar pots and sell them to the vulgar people. When you start believing them, you become fraudulent, Miss Nina. You make a plausible adjustment to the facts of life. I don't. And that isn't a virtue on my part. It's the disease of permanent adolescence. Honey, when you take your tongue out of your cheek, you become suspect.

These are our realities, and, like our ancestors of fifty thousand years ago, if we--as a species rather than as an individual--are uninformed or careless, or indifferent to the Facts (emphasis mine), then survival as a species is in serious doubt. ~~John D. MacDonald, Reading for Survival. c. 1987

The real guilt is in being a human being. That is the horrible reality which bugs us all. Wolves, as a class, are cleaner, more industrious, far less savage, and kinder to each other and their young.

Bahá'ís believe that the individual's right to unfettered enquiry is the most fundamental of all freedoms: 'There is nothing of greater importance to mankind than the investigation of truth... Look into all things with a searching eye' (Abdu'l-Bahá) This process should be free from imitation, heredity and blind faith: 'Set aside superstitious beliefs, traditions and blind imitation of ancestral forms of religion and investigate reality' (Abdu'l-Bahá)

Love, built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Only the individual, or that part of life which is in the firm grasp of the individual, is real.

Think, man, think of all the oceans of lies through all the ages that must have been necessary to make this possible! Think of this new particular vintage of lies that has been so industriously pumped out of the press and the pulpit. Doesn't it stagger you?

Think, man, think of all the oceans of lies through all the ages that must have been necessary to make this possible! Think of this new particular vintage of lies that has been so industriously pumped out of the press and the pulpit. Doesn't it stagger you? Martin

When I consider life, 't is all a cheat. Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay. To-morrow 's falser than the former day; Lies worse, and while it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage! none would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain; And from the dregs of life think to receive What the first sprightly running could not give.

When I consider life, 't is all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit, Trust on and think to-morrow will repay; To-morrow's falser than the former day.

When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.

It's all in your mind" is almost insulting, implying there's something strange or weak about you or that the symptoms are in your imagination. This is most unfortunate, since the symptoms are very real, the result of a very physical process.

The sad reality is that the patient with back pain is a prisoner of pervasive fear—and fear is a prime perpetuator of the pain syndrome.

To put it bluntly, your flesh is a weasel, a poser, and a selfish pig. And your flesh is not you. Did you know that? Your flesh is not the real you.

The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed. (The Sacred Journey) Only when we enter our wound will we discover our true glory.

The supreme reality of our time is the vulnerability of our planet.