Quotes About Illusion

Poor Melody, he thought again, because she saw love as something that gets you what you want. She didn't understand at all.

We must select the illusion which appeals to our temperament, and embrace it with passion.

it was all nothing, a wonderful display of nothingness. At the same time a display. A display! a display! a display!

Now, must she admit that he individual was an illusion and a falsification? There was no such animal. Except in the mechanical world. In the world of machines, the individual machine is effectual. The individual, like the perfect being, does not and cannot exist, in the vivid world. We are all fragments. And at the best, halves. The only whole thing is the Morning Star. Which can only rise between two: or between many.

On and on we go, for the mental consciousness labours under the illusion that there is somewhere to go to, a goal to consciousness. Whereas of course there is no goal. Consciousness is an end in itself. We torture ourselves getting somewhere, and when we get there it is nowhere, for there is nowhere to get to.

She thought she loved, she thought she was full of love.

Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn, and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. No substance to her or anything...no touch, no contact!

He felt the devil twisting his tail, and pretended it was the angels smiling on him.

The optimist builds himself safe inside a cell and paints the inside walls sky-blue and blocks up the door and says he's in heaven.

And what's romance? Usually, a nice little tale where you have everything as you like it, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose, and it's always daisy-time.

I am turned into a dream. I feel nothing, or I don't know what I feel. Yet it seems to me I am happy.

Chimaera Most people, today, are chimaera chimerical: just fantasies of self-importance their own self-importance and sphinxes of self-consciousness.

They seemed so free, and were as a matter of fact so tangled and tied up, inside themselves. They seemed so dashing and unconventional, and were really so conventional, so, as it were, shut up indoors inside themselves. They looked like bold, tall young sloops, just slipping from the harbour, into the wide seas of life. And they were, as a matter of fact, two poor young rudderless lives, moving from one chain anchorage to another.

And how they take one in, with their manners and their mock wistfulness and gentleness.

It was words, just so many words. The only reality was nothingness, and over it a hypocrisy of words.

He had not the faintest knowledge what it really was, but he would never have sunk so low as to confess that to his womenfolk. They listened and believed him. He believed himself.

You pluck flower after flower — it is never the flower. The flower itself — its calyx is a horrible gulf, it is the bottomless pit.

What liars poets and everybody were!

Men are less free than they imagine; ah, far lessfree. The freest are perhaps least free.

So our practice is not to eliminate our delusion, but to see or to become aware of the fact that we are deluded. Just become aware of it and let go of it. Do not be pulled by the delusions.

Qué es en definitiva esta Clara Luz? Cualquier cosa que se diga no es más que el dedo que señala la luna. Por ello, el silencio de Bunko parece ser la respuesta más acertada, la que mejor refleja la vacuidad de la Clara Luz, la ausencia de sustancia, la ausencia de luz de la Clara Luz.

Uchiyama R?shi used to say again and again that loss is enlightenment, gain is illusion.

So each moment we can see only part of the world, not the whole world. That is the source of delusion.

From the nature of reality in our life experience at the present time, we say these sliding doors are new, or the ceiling is old. We imagine that this ceiling was made several decades or several centuries ago because of its present nature of appearing old. Yet in reality, only the present exists. The past and the future do not exist [separate from the present].