Quotes About Reality

SABINE THINGS HAVE BECOME SO DIFFICULT. I MUSTN'T WRITE AGAIN. THIS WHOLE AFFAIR HAS GOTTEN TOO INTENSE. TOO REAL, SABINE, YOU DON'T EXIST. I INVENTED YOU. YOU, THE CARDS, THE STAMPS. THE ISLANDS, YOU'RE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION. I WAS LONELY AND I WANTED A FRIEND. BUT I'M ALMOST OUT OF CONTROL. I'VE STARTED TO THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU. BEFORE IT TAKES ME OVER IT HAS TO STOP. GOODBYE. GRIFFIN

Es vienk?rši atkl?ju, ka š? pasaule ir p?rlieku smaga, lai taj? b?tu labs," saka Bannijs, tad aizver acis un, izp?tis elpu, sastingst.

Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter because nobody listens.

We got him to talk to a psych doctor once, the doctor asked if he heard things other people don't. Sure, Paul answered, I hear birds in the morning when everyone's sleeping, I hear trees rustling when no one's around.

Everything's complicated, even those things that seem flat in their bleakness or sadness.

Time is relative. Now is absolute; the only time we can ever truly be.

Level-1 or world space is an anthropomorphically scaled, predominantly vision-configured, massively multi-slotted reality system that is obsolescing very rapidly. Garbage time is running out. Can what is playing you make it to level-2?

Kant's great discovery—but one that he never admitted to—was that apodictic reason is incompatible with knowledge. Such reason must be 'transcendental'. This is a word that has been propagated with enthusiasm, but only because Kant simultaneously provided a method of misreading it. To be transcendental is to be 'free' of reality. This is surely the most elegant euphemism in the history of Western philosophy.

What is new to modernity is a rate of the obsolescence of truth...

Although Postmodernism was certainly a fad, it was also a Zeitgeist, or spirit of the times. It meant something, despite its own best efforts, at least as a symptom. The disappearance of reality that it announced was itself real, as was the realm of simulation that replaced it.

To doubt that life evolved, even if some of the details described in this book may yet prove wrong, is to doubt the convergence of evidence, from molecules to men, from bacteria to planetary systems. It is to doubt the evidence of biology, and its concordance with physics and chemistry, geology and astronomy. It is to doubt the veracity of experiment and observation, to doubt the testing in reality. It is, in the end, to doubt reality.

At root fame is a sham. I'm not going to live forever and if I am I certainly need don't you to tell me that so that I will buy a car or a box of dried up crackers.

To be fair, what looks like conspiracy often turns out to be bureaucracy.

Urban man lives only in dreaming.

It is only through fiction and the dimension of the imaginary that we can learn something real about individual experience. Any other approach is bound to be general and abstract.

You're like concrete. Completely real. Even just standing there, before you said anything, you made everything else real: the walls, the floors, what he'd done to me.

Therese lifted her shoulders, losing that zen poise as nasty reality intruded on her nice, clean, middle-class understanding.

There is no perfect security. There's always something. Always.

She might wish Bony were bigger, and she might wish for a shield, but this was what she had.

More and more now she could tell the difference between what was real and what was a mix of memory and nightmare; more and more she felt sure that if she spoke she would be speaking to the living, not ghosts.

Stay in the world, she had said, and this was the world I had made.

Geordie Karp hurt people and manipulated them because they weren't real to him. He acted as if he were human, but he was a monster.

I ached for them. Most of them would not be able to cling to their bubble world; one day someone, something would thrust it. I wished it could be different.

Modern man is a prisoner who thinks he is free because he refrains from touching the walls of his dungeon.