Quotes About Reality

The questions that I ask myself, I think they're very much to do with reality. I would really like to have had the guts and the energy and so on to be able to write about, you know, people having battles with the DHSS. But I...I haven't. They're dull things. I mean, I'm an arty person. OK, I write overblown, purple, self-indulgent prose. So fucking what?

So I suppose I do not know how he really looked, and, in fact, I suppose I shall never know, now, for he was plainly an object created in the mode of fantasy. His image was already present somewhere in my head and I was seeking to discover it in actuality, looking at every face I met in case it was the right face - that is, the face which corresponded to my notion of the unseen face of the one I should love, a face created parthenogeneticallyby the rage to love which consumed me.

Do you not feel', said the Doctor in his very soft but still crisp-edged voice, 'that invisible presences have more reality than visible ones? They exert more influence upon us. They make us cry more easily.

Wars are facts we cannot fuck away, Perry; nor laugh away, either.

I can no longer tell the difference between memory and dream. They share the same quality of wishful thinking.

What is Aunt Margaret made of? Bird bones and tissue paper, spun glass and straw.

They had imagined too often and too much and so they had exhausted all their possibilities. When they embraced each other's phantoms, each in his separate privacy has savoured the most refined of pleasures but, connoisseurs of unreality as they were, they could not bear the crude weight, the rank smell and the ripe taste of real flesh. It is always a dangerous experiment to act out a fantasy; they had undertaken the experiment rashly and had failed…

They look around the world and think: 'There must be something better!' But there isn't. Sorry, chum. This is it. What you see is what you get. Only the here and now.

Even if it is the dream made flesh, the real, once it becomes real, can be no more than real.

A young girl would go into the wood as trustingly as Red Riding Hood to her granny's house but this light admits no ambiguities and, here, she will be trapped in her own illusion because everything in the woods is exactly as it seems.

The more I saw of love, the less I liked the look of it

Child, if such folks awe you, then picture them on the lavatory, straining, constipated. They will at once seem small, pathetic, manageable." And she whispered to me a great, universal truth: "THE BOWELS ARE GREAT LEVELLERS.

Do you not feel... that invisible presences have more reality than visible ones? They exert more influence upon us. They make us cry more easily.

The world exists only as a medium in which we execute our desires. Physically, the world itself, the actual world - the real world, if you like - is formed of malleable clay; its metaphysical structures is just as malleable.

The one-eyed man will be King in the country of the blind only if he arrives there in full possession of his partial faculties -- that is, providing he is perfectly aware of the precise nature of sight and does not confuse it with second sight, nor with the mind's eye's visions, nor with madness.

Una jovencita entra en el bosque tan confiadamente como Caperucita Roja de camino a la casa de su abuela, pero esta luz no admite ambigüedades y, una vez aquí, se quedará atrapada en su propia ilusión, porque todo en el bosque es exactamente lo que parece

Stars on our door, stars in our eyes, stars exploding in the bits of our brains where the common sense should have been

Is not this world an illusion? And yet it fools everybody.

Dreaming is good to do when you're sleeping. But as long as we're awake, nobody wants to go hungry.

Dreaming is good to do when you're sleeping. But, as long as we're awake, nobody wants to go hungry.

Love, love, love. What good is it, if it can't put food on the table.

Shouting something didn't make it any more possible.

Things," Aunt Zelda reminded everyone on the bridge, "are not always as they seem. Remember, the moon always shows the truth How we see it, is up to us to us, not the moon

Although Septimus knew he was not really squashed at all, he