Quotes About Reality

Plans are invitation to disappointment.

He could be a butterfly dreaming he's a man." "Well, he's not. He's a big fat man dreaming he's a big fat butterfly. What the hell am I supposed to do?" There was another hesitation. "I'm not sure. You don't happen to have a large net handy, do you?" "I want to hit him. I want to hit YOU, but I also want to hit him.

I'm fairly certain. I could be some ghastly hallucination, a figment of my own imagination

Life isn't fair,' Skulduggery said. 'In my experience, death isn't so different.

Other stories tell how I eat innocent newborns, how I'm ten feet tall, how I breathe fire and have great dragon wings. None of these are wholly accurate. I don't have dragon wings, I don't breathe fire, I'm only eight feet tall and I've never eaten a newborn that didn't have it coming. My name is Mevolent. What's yours?

Razzia: what is the time?" Razzia nodded. "Time is a social construct designed to derive order from chaos.

There is a place called reality. It is a place where people use doors instead of windows. Where, when you click a sound is made not a flame. Where, a shadow is a thing created by the sun, not a weapon. Where, your reflection stays in the mirror. And where skeletons don't walk and talk. But you can escape this place. You just have to have one thing. Imagination.

Detective Harris smiled good-naturedly as he sat down. "Other Inspector?" "The one who just left." "Hmm? Who was that, then?" "Detective Inspector Me." "Detective Inspector You?" "No, Me. That's his... He said that's his name. You just passed him. He was with a girl on work experience and a boy with spiky hair." Harris blinked at him. "I didn't pass anyone, Mr Dunne, and I'm the only Detective Inspector on duty right now." Kenny stared at him. "Then... then who the hell was I just speaking to?

I'm not crazy." "I'm not judging you, my dear. Some of my best friends are crazy." He nodded to the corner. "Take Wallace, for example. He's crazy as a loon, aren't you, Wallace?" Valkyrie frowned. "Uh, there's... there's no one there." Meritorious sighed. "That's what we long-term prisoners call dungeon humour. You learn to appreciate it after a few years.

Cheer up everyone, since we're all going to die horribly anyway, what's there to be worried about? - Skulduggery Pleasant.

Well," Skulduggery said, "purely to get this out of the way, I'll just go ahead and say it. There does not seem to be any sign of a railway track on the carpet or, indeed, a train hiding behind the sofa. And I don't think one could have fitted through the door.

Ryan, you're not real. You don't exist... You're Deacon Maybury," Skulduggery said. "You're a hiding place who thinks it's a boy.

I think you're shorter than you were." - Clarabelle "Yes," said Scapegrace. "Because I'm in a jar. I'm just a head." Clarabelle shrugged. "We're all just heads, when you think about it. The only difference between us is that we have arms and legs and bodies and we don't live in jars like you do. It's a nice jar, though. Where did you get it?

There is a place called reality. It is a place where people use doors instead of windows. Where, when you click a sound is made not a flame. Where, a shadow is a thing created by the sun, not a weapon. Where, your reflection stats in the mirror. And where skeletons don't walk and talk. But you can escape this place. You just have to have one thing. Imagination.

People my own age don't fight monsters, Tanith. If they did, I'd be hanging out with them a lot more.

In your reality and ours," Valkyrie said, "you're still a gigantic asshat.

Discontent arises from a knowledge of the possible, as contrasted with the actual.

I am I plus my circumstances.

I can feel this heart inside me and I conclude it exists. I can touch this world and I also conclude that it exists. All my knowledge ends at this point. The rest is hypothesis.

I am gone quite mad with the knowledge of accepting the overwhelming number of things I can never know, places I can never go, and people I can never be.

Geometry is knowledge of the eternally existent.

Knowledge does not enrich us; it removes us more and more from the mythic world in which we were once at home by right of birth.

The bulk of the world's knowledge is an imaginary construction.

Theory is the essence of facts. Without theory scientific knowledge would be only worthy of the madhouse.