Quotes About Illusion

Love is evil spell it backwards I'll show ya.

To those who see the magical surface of things, you are invisible.' Good grief. Will you still be able to see me?' He met her eyes in a way that made her shiver pleasantly. 'I see you in a great many ways. It would be hard to blind me in all of them.

Things aren't always what they appear,' he said softly, yet his voice carried a grim authority. 'I've spent my life searching for the ultimate, the best. All that is rare, unique, different, special. And of all I've experienced, people are the most disappointing.

You're like Marilyn Monroe,' Ken tells me, which I take as a compliment and say a nervous "Thank You". Interrupting, he adds, 'You're all velvet and Velcro. Men want you because you're sexy and broken and when it gets too rough they can say "Hey! This toy is broken!" and toss you aside without feeling bad.

I think that's such a beautiful sentiment. Love should only last as long as a very expensive and impractical bikini that looks stunning, but dissolves in the sea within days. So many pop songs tell of this terrible, tiresome love that they want to last forever. But that just makes me think of long-life milk, acrid and fake. Love should be like a movie trailer. Even if the film's a stinker, you get the best laughs and the biggest explosions in the space of two minutes.

The way we see the world is not actually the world in itself. What we see is our idea of it. The truth is, we have no notion of what the world is other than through the veils of our perception.

You can't trust actors.

Il mio regno non è di questo mondo» significa che l'armonia non è di questo mondo; l'affetto troppo armonioso, l'accordo troppo stabile, la dolcezza troppo sistematica, l'ottimismo troppo conciliante sono parzialmente frutto della menzogna.

Las mujeres son como las guerras: el que las ve de lejos y sin tocarlas más que con la imaginación, las encuentra magníficas, mientras que los que han conocido las guerras de cerca y han saboreado varias y las han resistido hasta el fin, ésos no hablan de ellas sino para condenarlas duramente... aunque al surgir una guerra nueva sean los primeros en alistarse para volver al frente

Palabras superficiales: el amor y el marron glacé son una misma cosa: esplendor por fuera; y por dentro, una castaña helada.

El "señor Vicente" era un individuo que se parecía a un hombre todo lo que un buque pirata puede parecerse a un bisoñé.

Todo es forma y casi nada es contenido.

nadie puede creer en la noble sonrisa de una cabeza degollada.

Pero si un día encontrara ese autor tan buscado, ese fantasma, ese genio, difícilmente éste mejoraría lo ya dicho por tantos otros acerca de las grietas que separan las expectativas de la juventud y la realidad de la madurez, lo ya dicho por tantos otros sobre la naturaleza ilusoria de nuestras elecciones, sobre la decepción que culmina la búsqueda de logros, sobre el presente como fragilidad y el futuro como dominio de la vejez y de la muerte.

No hay nada peor que la fama, y la realidad tiene esa fama con creces.

Las patatas gratinadas, en efecto, están ya en el horno. Pero no se le escapa que ésa es tan sólo una verdad relativa, pues en cualquier momento una loca, o el mismo Spider, podrían entrar por la puerta de imprevisto y podrían negar esta evidencia y todas las demás, todas, incluso la sobria verdad de las patatas gratinadas.

cree por unos momentos... estar dentro del pensamiento del viento, hasta que comprende que la mente del viento no podrá ser nunca suya ni de nadie

Appearances to the mind are of four kinds. Things either are what they appear to be; or they neither are, nor appear to be; or they are, and do not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Rightly to aim in all these cases is the wise man's task.

se aquilo que desaparece fosse destruído naquilo que não existe, todas as coisas teriam perecido, já que aquilo em que foram dissolvidas não existiria mais.

God desires the sinner to turn away from the darkness of his own nothingness and void and come to himself, to draw life from his life. Sin is grounded in an illusion concerning my own alleged greatness and worth in my own eyes. Repentance is grounded, not in a desire to abase myself, but in a clear understanding and a profound conviction of my great worth in the eyes of God.

Half the work that is done in the world is to make things appear what they are not.

Governments had risen and fallen; men and women had worked, had starved, had made speeches, had fought, had been tortured, had died. Hope had come and gone, a fugitive in the scented bosom of illusion. Men had learned to sniff the heady dreamstuff of the soul and wait impassively while the lathes turned the guns for their destruction. And through those years, Dimitrios had lived and breathed and come to terms with his strange gods.

but when you have been nourishing your soul on expectation, reality is apt to be disappointing.

All memory is a form of fiction. But all fiction is a form of reality.