Quotes About Illusion

Ne bildiÄŸinizi bilmeden bildiÄŸinizi san?rs?n?z, o bilginin sonuna varamazs?n?z, dünyadaki mutsuzluÄŸun tek ba??n?za sureti olduÄŸunuzu san?rs?n?z, imtiyazl? bir al?nyaz?s?n?n sureti. Kendinizi olmakta olan bu ÅŸeyin hakimi san?rs?n?z, böyle bir ÅŸeyin var olduÄŸunu san?rs?n?z

I've never written, though I thought I wrote, never loved, though I thought I loved, never done anything but wait outside the closed door.

La historia de mi vida no existe. Eso no existe. Nunca hay centro. Ni camino, ni línea. Hay bastos pasajes donde se insinúa que alguien hubo, no es cierto, no hubo nadie.

Nunca escrevi, e pensei que escrevia, nunca amei, e pensei que amava, nunca fiz nada a não ser esperar diante da porta fechada.

Her eyes are closed, but she is very far from being asleep. Even the shape of her face is altered, different. Her features are shrunken, aged. She has suddenly become what she, as she is, would be if she were ugly.

Do not mistake me. I am not yet weak enough to yield to fearful imaginings, which are almost as absurd as illusions of hope, and are certainly harder to bear. If I must deceive myself, I should prefer to stay on the side of confidence, for I shall lose no more there and shall suffer less.

Ce qui nous rassure du sommeil, c'est qu'on en sort, et qu'on en sort inchangé, puisqu'une interdiction bizarre nous empêche de rapporter avec nous l'exact résidu de nos songes.

Il se servait de son esprit comme d'un coin pour élargir de son mieux les interstices du mur qui de toute part nous confine. Les failles grandissaient, ou plutôt le mur, semblait-il, perdait de lui-même sa solidité sans pour autant cesser d'être opaque, comme s'il s'agissait d'une muraille de fumée au lieu d'une muraille de pierre. (L'abîme)

Langzamerhand, zoals in alle processen waarvoor de nieuwsgierigen een poos lang warmlopen, zag men hoe zich op twee verschillende plannen twee wonderlijk ongelijksoortige zaken aftekenden: het geval zoals het zich presenteert voor de rechtsgeleerden en de geestelijken wier taak het is te berechten, en het geval zoals het wordt gefantaseerd door de massa die monsters en slachtoffers wil.

Les mots trompent, puisque celui de plaisir couvre des réalités contradictoires, comporte à la fois les notions de tiédeur, de douceur, d'intimité des corps, et celles de violence, d'agonie et de cri. La petite phrase obscène de Poseidonius sur le frottement de deux parcelles de chair [...] ne définit pas plus le phénomène de l'amour que la corde touchée du doigt ne rend compte du miracle des sons.

He has left the world of facts to enter that of illusions, and sometimes I think that an illusion is perhaps the shape that the innermost secret realities take in the mind's eye of common folk.

Ce royaume aux frontières de la peau, dont nous nous croyons les princes, et où nous sommes prisonniers.

Le temps, qu'il avait imaginé devoir peser entre ses mains comme un lingot de plomb, fuyait et se subdivisait comme les grains du mercure. Les heures, les jours, et les mois, avaient cessé de s'accorder aux signes des horloges, et même au mouvement des astres. Il lui semblait parfois être resté toute sa vie à Bruges, et parfois y être rentré la veille. Les lieux aussi bougeaient : les distances s'abolissaient comme les jours. (L'abîme)

It is sometimes fortunate, that the means which are taken to produce certain effects upon the mind have a tendency directly opposite to what is expected.

Reality had run and got Sanity.

Love is blind, there was no doubt about it.

mistakenly thinking that if you improve your hair you can improve your life.

But to me, butterflies were slightly sneaky; all they were, were moths in embroidered jackets. And, yes, moths were creepy and their flapping wings made a nasty, papery sound – but at least they were honest; they were brown, they were dull, they were stupid (flying into flames at the drop of a hat). All in all, they hadn't much going for them but they didn't pretend to be anything other than what they were.

and Liam was a dead loss from day one, thinking he'd be

It makes you wonder. How much you can know about a thing, a person. If you can know anything at all. Maybe no one's who we think they are. No one. Makes you doubt yourself, wonder if you even know yourself or if you've been lyin, too, along with everybody else.

We're hallucinating. And that's what this world is: a mass hallucination, where fear seems more real than love. Fear is an illusion. Our craziness, paranoia, anxiety and trauma are literally all imagined.

Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God." What that means is this: Love is real. It's an eternal creation and nothing can destroy it. Anything that isn't love is an illusion. Remember this, and you'll be at

Grandiosity is always a cover for despair.

And that's what this world is: a mass hallucination, where fear seems more real than love. Fear is an illusion. Our craziness, paranoia, anxiety and trauma are literally all imagined. That is not to say they don't exist for us as human beings. They do. But our fear is not our ultimate reality, and it does not replace the truth of who we really are. Our love, which is our real self, doesn't die, but merely goes underground.