Quotes About Real

A forensic sweep might show that I'd been there. If forensic sweeps worked like they did in the entertainment media, which, come to think about it, I had no idea if they did or not. (Note to self: look up real forensic sweeps.)

The gaja might despise the Romany, but no Rom ever forgot his dead. For him, roaming over the earth were not only the half million Gypsies who drew breath but also the countless Gypsies who had gone before, restless spirits still wandering through cities and deserts, still real.

A great deal of the information embedded in a work of art is not – yet at least – accessible just by looking at an image of it while sitting at home. The deepest and richest experiences are not virtual but physical: they involve looking at real things and talking to real people.

So we must guard against real sins. But it's also to real sinners that the gospel reaches out.

Adventure, suspense, almost unimaginable heroics – these are just some of the ingredients of a story made even more remarkable because it really happened.

It was not all quite so simple, that real equality between women and men was still a thing of the future, and that there were causes for anger as well as for celebration.

For the first time in a long time, my life is real. It doesn't matter who ends up with who. And in some unearthly way its always gonna be you and me...soulmates. What we have goes beyond friendship...beyond lovers...its forever.

There is a voice inside which speaks and says: ''This is the real me!''

Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; a confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it is over, I don't want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

The sociopaths, that's the real problem. The whole street demeanor is about pretending to be a sociopath as well, so that the real ones can't find you.

Muéstrale tu verdadero corazón, es el único truco de magia posible.

Hello. I'm Leonard Nimoy. The following tale of alien encounters is true. And by true, I mean false. It's all lies. But they're entertaining lies. And in the end, isn't that the real truth? The answer is: No." --Leonard Nimoy

I don't like it." "Why?" "Because it is too painful." "Why is it painful?" "Because it's real.

But it is not the lives we regret not living that are the real problem. It is the regret itself. It's the regret that makes us shrivel and wither and feel like our own and other people's worst enemy.

It is not the lives we regret not living that are the real problem. It is the regret itself. It's the regret that makes us shrivel and wither and feel like our own and other people's worst enemy.

But it is not lives we regret not living that are the real problem. It is the regret itself. It's the regret that makes us shrivel and wither and feel like our own and other people's worst enemy.

It is the contemplation of absurd odds. We are all inside a dream that is real. We are the fires conjured from nothing. We exist out of near impossibility. And yet we exist.

Right then, I found a strange but real comfort in the pain.

We manufactured fake dissent, to prevent real dissent.

This is the hallmark of the moral panic scenario. It's a real story, but it's exaggerated, often wildly, and comes wrapped in proposals for authoritarian solutions.

the writer never reads his work. It is, for him, illegible, a secret. He cannot linger in its presence. It is a secret because he is separated from it. However, his inability to read the work is not a purely negative phenomenon. It is, rather, the writer's only real relation to what we call the work.

It belongs to the real to contract an infinity of relations into each of its moments.

Essence and existence, imaginary and real, visible and invisible -- painting scrambles all our categories, spreading out before us its oneiric universe of carnal essences, actualized resemblances, mute meanings.