Quotes About Illusion

I ached for them. Most of them would not be able to cling to their bubble world; one day someone, something would thrust it. I wished it could be different.

How did Begu always make simple things seem so slippery?

This was how it would be for her, she realised when Edwin king decided he no longer needed a seer. She would stand, plump and fed and brushed like a sacrificial cow, with gilded horns and a ribbon around her neck, too stupid to know she was being led to slaughter.

Modern man is a prisoner who thinks he is free because he refrains from touching the walls of his dungeon.

Order is a deception. But disorder is not a solution.

Humanity is the only totally false god.

A fool always finds a greater fool to admire him.

However big the fool, there is always a bigger fool to admire him.

Love, as it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the contact of two skins.

There are well-dressed foolish ideas, just as there are will-dressed fools.

There are well-dressed foolish ideas just as there are well-dressed fools

The moment when one loses the illusions and passions of youth often leaves regrets, but sometimes we hate the spell that deceived us. So it is that Armida burns and razes the palace where she was enchanted.

C'est une belle allégorie, dans la Bible, que cet arbre de la science du bien et du mal qui produit la mort. Cet emblème ne veut-il pas dire que lorsqu'on a pénétré le fond des choses, la pert des illusions amène la mort de l'âme, c'est-à-dire un désintéressement complet sur tout ce qui touches les autres hommes?

L'amour, tel qu'il existe dans la Société, n'est que l'échange de deux fantaisies et le contact de deux épidermes.

I thought that somehow your life would be much different when you're famous... and it's not. You just buy more stuff.

The veneer of civilization is very thin.

An odd thing about perception is that when we identify some new thing with one or more of our five senses, it is not really, immutably real -- it is a passing will o' the wisp, an artifact of the senses and the translations of the brain until we get used to it and we give it a home in our hearts

The fact is that you are more comfortable with myth than man.

Now it is all clear, and as plain as a pikestaff. Formerly—I don't know why—everything seemed veiled in a kind of mist. That is, I believe, because people think that the human brain is in the head. Nothing of the sort; it is carried by the wind from the Caspian Sea.

You are on the proper road for Manilovka, but ZAmanilovka - well, there is no such place. The house you mean is called Manilovka because Manilovka is its name; but no house at all is called ZAmanilovka. The house you mean stands there, on that hill, and is a stone house in which a gentleman lives, and its name is Manilovka; but ZAmanilovka does not stand herabouts, nor ever has stood." hahahaha

But until now I did not understand; everything was in a sort of mist. And I believe it all arose from believing that the brain is in the head. It's not so at all; it comes with the wind from the direction of the Caspian Sea.

I'd like to peek into the drawing room, where you sometimes see only an open door into yet another room beyond the drawing room.

On first speaking to the man, his ingratiating smile, his flaxen hair, and his blue eyes would lead one to say, "What a pleasant, good-tempered fellow he seems!" yet during the next moment or two one would feel inclined to say nothing at all, and, during the third moment, only to say, "The devil alone knows what he is!

P]eople think that the human brain is in the head. Nothing of the sort; it is carried by the wind from the Caspian Sea.