Quotes About Illusion

La visión seduce con su apariencia de certeza. Ves las cosas y estás convencido de que la realidad es sólo ésa, no te haces preguntas, no indagas porque te conformas con lo que ves. —Quien ve no ve nada —repetía mi padre.

Delusion detests focus and romance provides the veil.

The truth is that we are all inclined to flatter our- sclvcs-despite our daily experience to the contrary-that we spend our time thinking logical, consecutive thoughts. In fact, most of us do no such thing.

The self," Blackmore writes, "is just a fleeting impression that arises with each experience and fades away again. . . . There is no inner self," she argues, "only multiple parallel processes that give rise to a benign inner delusion—a useful fiction." She argues that consciousness itself is a fiction. The

When you're in the paradigm, you can't see the paradigm.

Sometimes I wanted to believe something so badly, I deliberately manufactured excuses and ignored painful reality.

Contentment and happiness didn't exist in my life for more than a few moments at a time, and they were really only illusionary. There was always something hidden. Lying in wait to spring up and ruin everything.

Contentment and Happiness didn't exist in my life for more than a few moments at a time, and they were really only illusionary.

Love was willfully blind and made fools of men.

I look at the centerfold spread over the top of my toilet's water tank. She's got dark hair and blue eyes, and her legs are long. They always look like that, the women in the pictures Hugh brings.

I think I made you up inside my head.

There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.

I would catch sight of some flawless man off in the distance, but as soon as he moved closer I immediately saw he wouldn't do at all.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) --from Mad Girl's Love Song: A Villanelle, written 1954

I thought it sounded just like the sort of drug a man would invent. Here was a woman in terrible pain, obviously feeling every bit of it or she wouldn't groan like that, and she would go straight home and start another baby, because the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been, when all the time, in some secret part of her, that long, blind, doorless and windowless corridor or pain was waiting to open up and shut her in again.

Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it --from Elm, written 19 April 1962

A ring of gold with the sun in it? Lies. Lies and a grief. --from The Couriers, written 4 November 1962

The same thing happened over and over: I would catch sight of some flawless man in the distance, but as soon as he moved closer I immediately saw he wouldn't do at all.

You will never win anyone through pity. You must create the right kind of dream, the sober, adult kind of magic: illusion born from disillusion.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

What have I eaten? Lies and smiles.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. [I think I made you up inside my head.]

I moved in front of the medicine cabinet. If I looked in the mirror while I did it, it would be like watching somebody else, in a book or a play.

I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)