Quotes About Reality

I've always thought that one of the signs of true adulthood is when you realize that you spend each Christmas trying to relive childhood memories that never really happened in the first place.

Everything was always something, but something—and here was the rub—could never be everything.

In many instances, depressives may simply be judging themselves and the world much more accurately than non-depressed people, and finding it not a pretty place." Abramson

The first lesson a watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. Because in the world of magicks, it's the hardest thing to do.

Though we have instructions and a map buried in our hearts when we enter this world, nothing quite prepares us for the abrupt shift to the breathing realm.

The Poem I Just Wrote The poem I just wrote is not real. And neither is the black horse who is grazing on my belly. And neither are the ghosts of old lovers who smile at me from the jukebox.

Beauty is a question of optics. All sight is illusion.

You wake up one morning, those years are gone. There's a comfort in this fact perhaps. I want to think that there must be comfort in all facts we can't alter.

there is a wish in the heart of mankind to be distracted and confused. Truth is but one attraction, and not always the most powerful.

Like a flame is real enough, isn't it, while it's burning?-even if there's a time it goes out?

Even if I seemed to remember, I could not know. For just to remember something is not to know if it really happened. That is a primary fact of the inner life, the most difficult fact with which we must live.

But he doesn't love her. I invented that. It is a plot if you imagine people in love--the lazy looping criss crosses of love, blows, stares, tears. No. It doesn't happen. No love. People meet, touch, stare into one another's faces, shake their heads clear, move on, forget. It doesn't happen.

That's how a thing starts out real then ends up just an idea.

Yet there was something gratifyingly real about being called a bitch, a whore, a blond tramp. Where so much was a dreamy haze, anything promising to be real was bracing.

And the thought consoled me, as it does now: everything you believe you have imagined is real. You have only to outlive it.

To the young there are no degrees of old just as there are no degrees of dead - either you are, or you are not.

I was nineteen years five months old when I fell in love for the first time. This seemed to me a profound, advanced age; never can we anticipate being older than we are, or wiser; if we're exhausted, it's impossible to anticipate being strong; as, in the grip of a dream, we rarely understand that we're dreaming, and will escape by the simplest of methods, opening our eyes.

P.J. said, That's true about any statement we make, isn't it? We never tell as much as we know. Right! So We're lying. So almost every statement is a lie, we can't help it. Yeah. But some statements are more lies than others.

Men grow cold as girls grow old And we all lose our charms in the end. How prettily Lorelei Lee sang these mordant lyrics!

The place where you came from ain't there any more, and where you had in mind to go is cancelled out. This place you are now—inside your daddy's house—is nothing but a cardboard box I can knock down any time. You know that and always did know it. You hear me?

Once upon a time the fairy tales begin. But then they end and often you don't know really what has happened, what was meant to happen, you only know what you've been told, what the words suggest.

Sick?--What's sick? Who is 'well'? Do you imagine, if you or I were minutely examined, we would be one hundred percent 'well'?

For once a truth is known it cannot be unknown, it can only be denied.

Without anyone to talk to, a person is not quite real. Sounds are very important - we are like bats tapping at each other with sounds, making sure there is someone there, groping along. Sounds. Syllables. The beat of music. It is all a curious flowing, which you can hear only when you are silent yourself.