Quotes About Reality

Vulgarity is, in reality, nothing but a modern, chic, pert descendant of the goddess Dullness.

We can't behave like people in novels, though, can we?

And you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities.

History is a novel that has been lived, a novel is history that could have been.

Falsehood has a perennial spring.

Poetry is the art of substantiating shadows, and of lending existence to nothing.

In the country of the mad, the sane man is crazy.

Scotland Yard isn't called in nearly as often as detective novelists seem to think

You'll laugh at me, of course"—Geoffrey smiled a hasty and unconvincing negative—"but in the long run it is the people who dream of being men of action who are the men of action. Admittedly Don Quixote made a fool of himself with the windmills, but when all's said and done, there probably were giants about.

Why must the plastic form make up the foundation of image consciousness?

Zu den Sachen selbst!

All forms of perception, according to Husserl, presuppose an intentional structure of consciousness, and it is in this intentional structure that the primordial link between consciousness and the world is to be sought.

That here on earth is no sure happiness.

Why then should witless man so much misweene That nothing is but that which he hath seene?

In his novels from beginning to end, Dickens is making the same point always: that to the English governing classes the people they govern are not real.

While the romantic individualist deludes himself with unrealizable fantasies, in the attempt to evade bourgeois society, and only succeeds in destroying himself, he lets humanity fall a victim to the industrial-commercial processes, which, unimpeded by his dreaming, go on with their deadly work.

He believes, but he does not believe: the impossibility of believing is the impossibility which he accepts most reluctantly, but still it is there with the other impossibilities of this world which is too full of weeping for a child to understand.

The past is an unsolved mystery and the truth a moving target.

Everybody seems normal, till you get to know them.

You can run, but what are you running from? Your life? You can't run away from your life.

Second Fig Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Nobody that matters, that is.

For men that are afraid to die Must warm their hands before a lie; The fire that's built of What is Known Will chill the marrow in the bone.

No debería preocuparme por lo que ahora acontece. Pues cada instante niega el anterior, y la ilusión de continuidad es lo que llamamos tiempo. Que luego se convierte en sueños o recuerdos.