Quotes About Reality

E se nessuno ti vede, esisti davvero?

La mente crede a bugie confortanti, mentre conosce le dolorose verità che rendono necessarie quelle bugie. E la tua mente ti punisce per il fatto che credi contemporaneamente a entrambe le cose. [...] La vita non si scrive con le parole. Si scrive con le azioni. Quello che si pensa non conta. La sola cosa importante è ciò che si fa.

Que importaria la distancia si solo fuera un sueno

Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?

Ma che cos'è un sogno, Conor O'Malley? Chi può dire che non sia un sogno tutto il resto?

Because paper is a thing," I say, "and sometimes you need things rather than just thoughts.

Uneori, oamenii au nevoie s? se mint? pe ei în?i?i mai mult decât pe oricine altcineva.

Mintea ta va crede orice minciuni atâta vreme cât acestea î?i vor aduce lini?te, f?r? s? ignori, în tot acest timp, adev?rurile dureroase care au dus la apari?ia acestor minciuni necesare.

People see stories everywhere," Regine says. "That's what my father used to say. We take random events and we string them together in a pattern so we can comfort ourselves with a story, no matter how much it obviously isn't true." She glances back at Seth. "We have to lie to ourselves to live. Otherwise, we'd go crazy.

This must be insanity. (But I'm as sane as anyone.)

Did it matter? George thought perhaps it did, and not in terms of finding truth or of any hope of discovering what really happened at any given moment. There were as many truths - overlapping, stewed together - as there were tellers. The truth mattered less than story's life. A story forgotten died. A story remembered not only lived, but grew.

For such a brainy guy, Richard was able to sustain an impressive degree of emotional and cognitive detachment from reality.

I have an apple that thinks its a pear. And a bun that thinks it's a cat. And a lettuce that thinks its a lettuce." "It's a clever lettuce, then." "Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it's a lettuce?" "Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked. "Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.

There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath.

But no. There is a difference between the truth and what we wish were true.

I believe it, Chronicler found himself thinking. Before it was just a story, but now I can believe it. This is the face of a man who has killed an angel.

Some things simply were too true to stay. Some merely came to visit for a while.

I briefly entertained the notion that I was insane and didn't know it. Then I considered the possibility that I had always been insane, acknowledged it as more likely than the former, then pushed both thoughts from my mind.".

She knew the true shape of the world. All else was shadow and the sound of distant drums.

hear rumors and go digging for the painful truth beneath the lovely lies. You believe you have a right to these things, but you don't. When someone tells you a piece of their life, they're giving you a gift, not granting you your due.

While it sounds interesting, it was really only a headache pressed between covers.

Nothing was nothing else. Nothing was anything it shouldn't be.

De modo que esa es la diferencia entre contar una historia y estar dentro una historia: el miedo.