Quotes About Illusion

Niente ci vuole a far la pazza, creda a me! Gliel'insegno io come si fa. Basta che Lei si metta a gridare in faccia a tutti la verità. Nessuno ci crede, e tutti la prendono per pazza!

Yet everything that may be imagined of us is really possible, even though it may not be true for us. True for us? Others laugh. It is true for them. So true is it, understand, that if you do not hold fast to that reality which is bestowed upon you as your own, they are in a position to bring you to realize that the reality which they confer upon you is truer than any of your own.

The faculty of deluding one's self that today's reality is the only true one, if on the one hand it affords us a support, on the other hand hurls us into a bottomless void, for the reason that today's reality is destined to discover itself an illusion tomorrow. And life knows no conclusion. It cannot know any. If tomorrow there were to be a conclusion, all would be over.

But only in order to know if you, as you really are now, see yourself as you once were with all the illusions that were yours then, with all the things both inside and outside of you as they seemed to you—as they were then indeed for you.

Il était désormais inutile d'avoir une valeur pour soi. Aucune vérité ne subsistait, puisque aucune chose en soi n'était vraie. Chacun la considérait comme telle, à sa manière, pour en peupler son désert, et pour donner une consistance quelconque, jour par jour, à sa vie.

When you died, you died in small doses. You had trouble speaking. You forgot who was beside you. You were suddenly furious and in a panic of outrage. You wished you could be saintly. You wished you weren't so weak. You suddenly felt better and fooled yourself into believing that a miracle was about to happen. Well, wasn't that all a dirty rotten thing to pull on somebody.

We are all, I realise, even as I write this, merely moving closer to our deaths. At the end of this sentence I am closer to mine than I was at the beginning. It's relentless. It's a savage thing. And yet for a long time I've carried with me a sense of life opening out. Evidently it's some kind of protective illusion.

For every hundred-dollar cock in Candy's cunt, Candy needs a two-hundred-dollar jab in the arm. And I'm Prince Pimp, welcome to the show. I would vomit up my life if I could.

But being alone was also a closed loop. A loop with a slipknot, say. The loop could be small or large, but it always returned to itself. You had to untie the knot, finally. Open the loop and then everything sank in. And everyone. Then you could see what was true--that separateness had always been the illusion. A simple trick of flesh.

Personally, I felt no urge to hook up with James. He was handsome enough, or whatever, but he reminded me of margarine. Sneakers that were still stiff from the store. Maybe a roll of thick, bleached paper towels.

People must flatter their own eyes with their pathetic lives. The things I was saying followed logically the things that I had said before, yet bore no relation to what I was thinking and feeling.

Something can only become an illusion after disillusionment. Before that, it is something real.

once i knew the blinking cat could not really blink, was just paper and ink.

Her wonderful, sweet, perfect, fairy-tale romance had turned out to have a twist. Prince Charming was a bloodsucker.

Shattered Glass By Jerry Rosen

We waste our lives in half truths and nonsense. We waste them.

The perception that we are loving when we fall in love is an illusion. Real love does not have its roots in a feeling of love. Real love often occurs when a feeling of love is lacking.

Patients are often unaware of how they view the world, and sometimes may even think they possess a certain kind of religion when they actually are possessed by a far different kind.

Sometimes the things you fantasize about aren't what you end up really wanting

We see what we want to see when we look at someone. Like a diamond before it has been cut. We can guess at its brilliance but can't see the faults until the stone has been cut and polished. Only then can we glimpse inside and see the occlusions and the clarity. 

I feel I have walked onto a stage. The people around me are absorbed in their parts, putting on this great show, but nothing seems real. Every object looks like a prop. Since I have no part I am reduced to the role of a spectator, but there is nowhere to sit, so I have to mingle with the actors on stage. It is a terrible feeling.

Capitu, apesar daqueles olhos que o Diabo lhe deu... Você já reparou nos olhos dela? São assim de cigana oblíqua e dissimulada.

Não confunda o romance com a vida, ou viverá desgraçada.

Mas deveras estariam eles doido, e foram curados por mim, ou o que pareceu cura não foi mais do que a descoberta do perfeito desequilíbrio do cérebro?