Quotes About Reality

Jill told him that he just didn't understand what it meant to have been so promising your whole life and now to be so disappointing in the end.

She used to be really dynamic and exciting and filled with promise, but she's become this ordinary sort of boring person...I always thought it was the saddest and most devastating ending. How you could have these enormous dreams that never get met. How without knowing it you could just make yourself smaller over time. I don't want that to happen to me.

To commit to actual things composed of wood and metal and fabric was to make real the vagueness and unreality of love.

It was exhausting being a schizophrenic, which he was still convinced he was.

Was this the epiphany of adult life, that it actually wasn't exciting and vast in possibilities, but was in fact as enclosed and proscribed as childhood?

Will your hearts always be aching? Is that what you are asking me?" Goodman shifted in discomfort. "Something like that," he said. "Yes," said the counselor in a suddenly plangent voice. "Always they will be aching. I wish I could tell you something else, but I wouldn't be telling the truth. My wise and gentle friends, this is the way it will be from now on." No one could say anything. "We are so, so fucked," Jules finally said,

I've always sort of felt that you prepare yourself over the course of your whole life for the big moments, you know? But when they happen, you sometimes feel totally unready for them, or even that they're not what you thought. And that's what makes them strange. The reality is really different from the fantasy.

Siempre he tenido la sensación de que uno se pasa la vida como… preparándose para los grandes momentos, ¿sabes? Pero cuando llegan, a veces no te sientes nada preparado, o incluso resulta que no son como habías pensado. Y eso es lo que los hace extraños. La realidad es realmente distinta de la fantasía.

She saw, briefly, the way the world rarely stopped to salute you or admonish you, regardless of what you had or had not accomplished.

You got caught up in some fantasy, and now you can't see anything at all.

If love was real, then these bodily, human details could seem insignificant.

Descartes walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Do you want a drink, sir?' And Descartes says, 'I think not.' And then he disappears.

Ce se întâmpl? în Belzhar, orice ar fi, nu las? nicio urm? în lumea real?. Nicio umbr?, niciun fel de reziduu.

I've always sort of felt that you prepare yourself over the course of your whole life for the big moments, you know? But when they happen, you sometimes feel totally unready for them, or even that they're not what you thought. And that's what makes them strange. The reality is really different from the fantasy." "That's

You spend a long time waiting for life to start—the past year or two filled with all these firsts, everything new and terrifying and significant—and then it does start and you realize it isn't what you'd expected, or asked for.

The world is a fiction the brain constructs

You never think your life will be that big.    Just

in the end all the things you think matter are just disappointment and noise.

You spend a long time waiting for life to start – her past year or two filled with all these firsts, everything new and terrifying and significant – and then it does start and you realise it isn't what you'd expected, or asked for.

We are never deceived," she says, her voice deep and ringing. "We deceive ourselves.

Its not that they want her. It's just they have this feeling, and they're off, Billy, they're way off, but they have this sense that, somehow behind that knockout face of hers, she's more like the women they see on the job, on patrol, on a case, in the precint house. Women with stories as long as their rap sheets, as their dangling legs…

You spend a long time waiting for life to start-- her past year or two filled with all these firsts, everything new and terrifying and significant-- and then it does start and you realize it isn't what you'd expected, or asked for.

Two people, tightly twined, can begin to convince themselves of anything. There's reality and then there's the shared experience, which feels so much more real. Two people, needing each other, can come to believe things. Can come to believe wanting something was the same as making it happen. That it wasn't a choice, in the end, but the right thing to do, the fulfillment of some deeper calling.

The world is a fiction the brain constructs. The smell of a fresh peach, the punch of a firefly in the night sky. The lilting hush-hush of a first lullaby. The brain fashions it all and we don't know how or why.