Quotes About Reality

So EMIC realities are very powerful. Six million Jews died because of an EMIC realtiy. That reality was as real as the guns and bombs of the war because that reality was believed in.

The only thing (or process) precisely equal to the universe remains the universe itself. Every description, or model, or theory, or art-work, or map, or reality-tunnel, or gloss, etc., remains somewhat smaller than the universe and hence includes less than the universe.

He doesn't think it is any crazier than anybody else's reality-tunnel, and he claims it is a lot more fun than any other.

The thing about monsters is, you want to kill them until you meet them, and when you meet them they don't seem monstrous, and killing them begins to seem unkind.

Afterlife is no less implausible than anything else,' I said. 'All explanations of existence are equally incredible.' 'So you might as well believe something that makes you feel good as not

Since when do you and I talk about the world," she said. "The world is what it is." "Yeah, I know." "Not only do you know, you've helped me to know." "Good to be useful," I said. "What has always made me respect you, even in the bad times, was your ability to look out at the world and see what's there. Not what you'd like to see, or even what you need to see, but simply what's there.

seem an honest man, sir," she said. " Ã¢â'¬ËœLet be be the end of seem,' Ã¢â'¬Â I said. She smiled faintly. " Ã¢â'¬ËœThe only emperor,' Ã¢â'¬Â she said, " Ã¢â'¬Ëœis the emperor of ice-cream.' Ã¢â'¬Â "Very good

We're all not quite as sane as we pretend to be." Sam

And here, all along, she'd thought of herself as being so calm, so cool, so composed.

That was the most important thing. He had to stop talking to himself. He had to get back that calm feeling agan. He had to face reality. And what was reality?

A week ago, Norman would never have dared. But this wasn't a week ago, it was now, and things were different. It was now, and he had to face the truth.

What if all's appearance? Is not outside seeming real as substance inside? Both are facts, so leave me dreaming.

The world and life's too big to pass for a dream

Some books are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penn'd...

Bob Moses had learned what was needed to make dreams become realities. He had learned the lesson of power. And now he grabbed for power with both hands. To free his hands for the grab, he shook impatiently from them the last crumbs of the principles with which he had entered public service and for which, during his years of idealism, he had fought so hard.

Nothing glamorous like the write-ups in the papers or the newsreels. We weren't heroes. We were only there...

Michaels was an overweight guy in his early thirties with a wide butt and a hairline that hadn't seen his eyebrows in years. He had pale skin and washed-away eyes and dry lips that he continuously licked. The lips made me think he was feeling short and thinking about his next fix, but that's only because Livermore had said he was a junkie. Tre Michaels didn't look like a junkie, but then I've never met a junkie in real life who looked like Johnny Rotten.

Yeah, well, try living with it. Getting old is hell.

If the evidence did not exist right in front of him, it didn't exist, period. And following from that would come his belief in the essential wisdom of the common person, who also knew the world only from the grassroots level in the most immediate, concrete way.

The first victim of war is the truth.

Reality could be painful to acknowledge, but there came a point when we all realized we weren't going to walk on the moon, star in a Hollywood movie, or be president of the United States. We'd be who we were, and we could either come to grips with this fact and like the person we'd become, or live with regret and disappointment.

I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.

Time and times are but cogwheels, unmatched, grinding on oblivious to one another. Occasionally - oh, very rarely! - the cogs fit; the pieces of the plot snap together momentarily and give men faint glimpses beyond the veil of this everyday blindness we call reality.

People believed what made them comfortable. What fit with their preconceptions of how the world worked.