Quotes About Illusion

In this world the mask is what is true.

Every remedy for loneliness only postpones it.

Di tutto ciò che è uscito dalle sordide gole degli anziani, dai vecchi libri ammuffiti, non ho salvato una parola. Ho sognato che camminavo con mio nonno sulla riva di un lago scuro e i discorsi del vecchio erano pieni di incertezza. Ho visto come tutto ciò che è finto si stacca dai morti.

He'd the notion that there would be something in the story itself to tell him about the way the world was or was becoming but there was not. There was nothing in it at all.

Vuestro máximo deseo es que os cuente algún misterio. El misterio es que no hay ningún misterio.

There's a lot of things look better at a distance

How does the never to be differ from what never was

You will never know what the world is made of. The only thing that's certain is that it's not made of the world. As you close upon some mathematical description of reality you can't help but lose what is being described.

Beauty makes promises that beauty cant keep. I've seen it too many times. Twice in this house.

How do you know that the call of the cole tit from the bracken is not really the lamentations of the damned? The world's a deceptive place. A lot of things that you see are not really there anymore. Just the after-image in the eye. So to speak.

The boy looked at him. Finally he asked him why this was such a blessing and the blind man did not answer and did not answer and then at last he said that because what can be touched falls into dust there can be no mistaking these things for the real. At best they are only tracings of where the real has been.

El secreto, he said, es que en este mundo la máscara es la que es verdadera

The secret truth: in this world the mask is what is true.

It's certainly possible that the imaginary is best. Like a painting of some idyllic landscape. The place you would most like to be. That you never will.

Men have in their minds a picture of how the world will be. How they will be in that world. The world may be many dierent ways for them but there is one world that will never be and that is the world they dream of.

A big lemoncolored cat watched him from the top of a woodstove. He turned his head to see it better and it elongated itself like hot taffy down the side of the stove and vanished headfirst in the earth without a sound.

Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.

Reality is a fragile thing.

A mirror hung between the shelves. Clara stepped in front of it and let her fingers run over the silver roses that covered the frame. She had never seen anything so beautiful. The glass they surrounded was dark, as if the night had spilled onto it. It was misted up, and right where she saw the reflection of her face was the imprint of a hand.

Accursed, blasted, heartless things [books]! Full of empty promises, full of false lures, always making you hungry, never satisfying you, never!

Love didn't deserve the nice reputation it had.

Why did such truths only reveal themselves after they'd become lies?

The best lies stay close to the truth.

Their dust was in high demand, as it gave sweet dreams, but Tabetha couldn't afford to get lost in them. Those dreams were only lies anyway, and waking up from them only made facing reality harder.