Quotes About Illusion

In order to escape the illusion and find inner peace, remember that only love in a situation is real.

Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists.

because only love is real. It is our function to see through the illusion of guilt, to the innocence that lies beyond. "To forgive is merely to remember only the loving thoughts you gave in the past, and those that were given you. All

True forgiveness is not a lack of discernment or the product of fuzzy thinking. It is a "selective remembering." We choose to remember the love we experienced, and to let go of the rest as the illusion it really was.

Ver con sus ojos es expiar los errores de nuestra percepción. Ese es el milagro que él opera en nuestra vida

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 peace.

Fear manufactures a kind of parallel universe where the unreal seems real, and the real seems unreal.

El pasado no está en ningún lugar, excepto en nuestra mente, y el futuro tampoco existe en ningún lugar excepto en nuestra mente.

El miedo es una ilusión, un delirio. Nuestra locura, nuestra paranoia, nuestra angustia y nuestros traumas son imaginarios.

Freud definió la neurosis como el hecho de alejarse del Yo, y eso es. El verdadero Yo es el amor dentro de nosotros. Es el «hijo de Dios». El yo temeroso es un impostor. La vuelta al amor es el gran drama cósmico, el viaje personal desde lo ilusorio hasta el Yo, del dolor a la paz interior.

glass. And there really weren't any

But what's real? You can't find the truth. You just pick the lie you like best. As long as you know that everything's a lie, you can't hurt yourself.

Paintings are seldom guilty and often framed for crimes they did not commit. Some cover holes-holes in walls, holes in lives. Some make holes-in wallets, holes in hearts...in negative space.

But what's real? You can't find the truth, you just pick the lie you like the best.

It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on.

Everything that falls upon the eye is apparition, a sheet dropped over the world's true workings. The nerves and the brain are tricked, and one is left with dreams that these specters loose their hands from ours and walk away, the curve of the back and the swing of the coat so familiar as to imply that they should be permanent fixtures of the world, when in fact nothing is more perishable.

She was an old woman, but she managed to look like a young woman with a ravaging disease.

To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow.

We live on a little island of the articulable, which we tend to mistake for reality itself.

If appearance is only a trick of the nerves, and apparition is only a lesser trick of the nerves, a less perfect illusion, then this expectation, this sense of a presence unperceived, was not particularly illusory as things in this world go.

It was absurd to think that things were held in place, are held in place, by a web of words.

it is true that we all do live in the ruins of the lives of other generations, so there is a seeming continuity which is important because it deceives us.

The seductive invitation of metamorphosis - of turning into something other — has continued to suffuse fantasies of identity; on the one hand holding out a way of escape from humanity, on the other annihilating the self.

He wanted the world to believe that he was a horse rider. So let him ride his horses at the bottom of the ocean.