Quotes About Reality

Lost in these imaginary illusions I forgot my destiny – that of the hunted.

To refute him is to become contaminated with unreality.

que mientras dromimos aqui, estamos despiertos en otro lado y que asi cada hombre es de dos hombres.

Crees que la Caída es otra cosa que ignorar que estamos en el Paraíso?

In the dream of the man that dreamed, the dreamed one awoke.

Time is the thing I am made of. Time is a river that sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that tears me apart, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.

Creo que la primera lectura es la verdadera, y que en las siguientes nos engañamos a nosotros mismos con la creencia de que se repite la sensación, la impresión.

In the dreaming man's dream, the dreamed man awoke.

Una de las escuelas de Tlön llega a negar el tiempo: razona que el presente es indefinido, que el futuro no tiene realidad sino como esperanza presente, que el pasado no tiene realidad sino como recuerdo presente.

Cuando, en Ginebra o Zurich, la fortuna Quiso que yo también fuera poeta, Me impuse, como todos, la secreta Obligación de definir la luna. Pensaba que el poeta es aquel hombre Que, como el rojo Adán del paraíso, Impone a cada cosa su preciso Y no verdadero y no sabido nombre.

En el sueño del hombre que soñaba, el soñado se despertó.

Ah,' said the journalist, 'so the entire thing is your own invention. I thought it was true because you gave the name of the street.' I did not dare tell him that the naming of streets is not much of a feat.

Edimburgo o York o Santiago de Compostela pueden mentir eternidad; no así Buenos Aires, que hemos visto brotar de un modo esporádico, entre los huecos y los callejones de tierra.

Know this: in some way you're already dead.

Things duplicate themselves in Tlön; they also tend to grow vague or 'sketchy,' and to lose detail when they begin to be forgotten. The classic example is the doorway that continued to exist so long as a certain beggar frequented it, but which was lost to sight when he died. Sometimes a few birds, a horse, have saved the ruins of an amphitheater.' - Jorge Luis Borges, 'Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius.

Maneco Uriarte no mató a Duncan; las armas, no los hombres, pelearon. Habían dormido, lado a lado, en una vitrina, hasta que las manos las despertaron.

Why does it disturb us that Don Quixote be a reader of the Quixote and Hamlet a spectator of Hamlet?... these inversions suggest that if the characters of a fictional work can be readers or spectators, we, its readers or spectators, can be fictitious.

Gerçekte, uykudan uyan?p da kendi kendisiyle kar??laÅŸmayan insan yoktur.

Kar??l??? baÅŸka bir yerde bulunmayan hiçbir ÅŸey yoktur.

Words, words, words taken out of place and mutilated, words from other men — those were the alms left him by the hours and the centuries.

What is past is what is real.

The acts of madmen exceed the previsions of the sane.

And so, as I sleep, some dream beguiles me, and suddenly I know I dream. Then I think: this is a dream, a pure diversion of my will; now that I have unlimited power, I am going to create a tiger. Oh incompetence! Never do my dreams engender the wild beast I longed for. The tiger indeed appears, but stuffed or flimsy, or with impure variations of shape, or of an implausible size, or all too fleeting, or with a touch of the dog or bird.

Methodical writing distracts me from the present condition of men. But the certainty that everything has been already written nullifies or makes phantoms of us all.