Quotes About Reality

Soulmates" is what you aim for, but soup snakes is what you get sometimes.

On TV I loved Mickey Mouse, but when I met the actual real-life Mickey, or rather, his impersonator, and he tried to hug me in his warm, fuzzy suit, I recoiled in fear.

Hard work is such a weird thing. As children and teenagers you are told it's a really good thing, but for adults it suddenly becomes the worst thing in the world.

I think I love the scene because it reflects how love works. "Soul mates" is what you aim for, but soup snakes is what you get sometimes.

If handed an actual basketball, I would instantly cry. For me, doing sports was like meeting the Disney characters at Disney World. On TV I loved Mickey Mouse, but when I met the actual real-life Mickey, or rather his impersonator, and he tried to hug me in his warm fuzzy suit, I recoiled in fear.

You could tell the secret of life ten times over, and it would still be safe. After all, the secret is only known when people make it real in their own lives, not when they simply hear it.

Life is but one dream flowing into another.

do not be put off by the illusory nature of life. Use it. Everything in this life can be an advantage to the wise.

Our subjectivity is a mirrored, spiked casket. When will we see that all we have done is surround ourselves with our own illusions? Only when we realize our true nature does the casket disappear.

lector, si estás ahí, sueña y vive para hacer realidad tus sueños aunque sea por unos pocos instantes de ilusa ensoñación porque entonces conocerás el sabor de la verdadera vida.

Sometimes God feels very far away, and so we long for God. Not because we believe that God and self are ultimately existentially separate, but because here in the midst of our relative reality our souls yearn to return to where we come from: Absolute Love.

For women mystics, contemplative life is not so much a matter of transcending the illusions of mundane existence or attaining states of perfect equanimity as it is about becoming as fully present as possible to the realities of the human experience. In showing up for what is, no matter how pedestrian or tedious, how aggravating or shameful, the what is begins to reveal itself as imbued with holiness. How do we make space in our lives for this kind of sacred seeing?

The truth is neither good nor bad. It is above evil. Above morality. It doesn't offer anything besides itself.

You always feel like you are the only one in the world, like everyone else is crazy for each other, but it's not true. Generally, people don't like each other very much. And that goes for friends, too.

There was nothing in this world that was not a con, suddenly I understood this. Nothing really mattered, and nothing could be lost.

Life is just this way, broken, and I am crazy to hope for something else.

Would she understand that time had stopped while she was gone.

Now began the part of her life where she was just very beautiful, except for nothing. Only winners will know what this feels like. Have you ever wanted something very badly and then gotten it? Then you know that winning is many things, but it is never the thing you thought it would be.

Your sentimentality softens all the edges, you're misremembering. Take a moment to recall it as it really was: fucking hell.

it wasn't pretend, I wasn't in a fairytale or a fable. I shut my eyes and absorbed the silent whoomp that always accompanies this revelation. It's the sound of the real world, gigantic and impossible, replacing the smaller version of reality that I wear like a bonnet, clutched tightly under my chin.

Was all this real to her? Did she think it was temporary? Or maybe that was the point of love: not to think.

I was wondering if my life, the life in which I had a son and a beautiful, young girlfriend, could exist outside of the hospital. Or was the hospital its container? Was I like honey thinking it's a small bear, not realizing the bear is just the shape of its bottle?

Was I like honey thinking it's a small bear, not realizing the bear is just the shape of its bottle?

It would require constant vigilance to not replace each person with my own fictional version of them.