Quotes About Illusion

It's odd how fast a beautiful woman can turn a guy's mind into lint storage. Just by being a beautiful woman.

Maybe honor was in its twilight. Maybe it had always been heading that way. Or worse, maybe it had always been an illusion.

Danny could see it in their faces when they shook Steve's hand—they'd have preferred him dead. Death allowed for the illusion of heroism. The maimed turned that illusion into an uncomfortable odor.

We all believe lies that bring us more comfort than the truth.

She had straight brown hair that fell to her shoulders, a rock the size of a Prius on her left ring finger, and she might have been pretty if the skin weren't stretched so tight against her face it gave her the unfortunate look of someone who'd been struck by lightning during an orgasm.

Power, most power anyway, was the fly that called itself a hawk. It could only govern those who agreed to call it a hawk instead of a fly, a tiger instead of a cat, a king instead of a man.

Power—most power anyway, certainly Vidalia's brand of it—was the fly that called itself a hawk. It could only govern those who agreed to call it a hawk instead of a fly, a tiger instead of a cat, a king instead of a man.

Safety is an illusion we sell to children to help them sleep. Then I wanted to be a child.

Then how did he manage to deceive you? Because I let him. And why would you do that? Because I wanted to feel safe. Safety is an illusion we sell to children to help them sleep. Then I wanted to be a child.

But we pay a price for everyone's putting on a happy face—we start believing that life for everyone else is great. I wonder what effect

Psychologically, if we do not reject old habits and beliefs when confronted with the possibility of a better way of being, we end up imprisoned by a tyrannical ego complex that will perpetuate any illusion just to keep control.

Lizards frolicked in the flames of a bonfire; two lonely fish swam toward each other under the sea; a lion devoured the sun. An eagle flying high in the air was incongruously chained to a toad crawling on the ground. A wolf and dog battled in the middle of a deserted town. A slithering serpent entwined itself around a female corpse lying in an open grave. Another serpent lay nailed to a cross, while other serpents and dragons chased their own tails in never ending circles.

We have become so brainwashed by the fast, usually bloodless, and always painless deaths shown continually by the movie and television production industry that our collective perceptions of the act of death are sanitized. Whether by gunshot or through illness, the actor just rolls over and that's the end. We want so much to believe that this is true that we don't question it.

I thought I could make out Jamie's Highland screech, but that was likely imagination; they all sounded equally demented.

Feelings aren't truth

Had it been this way where she came from? Had fires and food held back a jungle darkness, kept away leopards instead of bears? Had light and company given comfort, and the illusion of safety? For illusion it had surely been—fire was no protection against men, or the darkness that had overtaken her. I had no words to ask.

Nothing moved on the surface but faint coruscations of starlight, caught like fireflies in a spider's web.

more than he did himself. But he said, no, I must have it, that knowing what o'clock it is gives ye the illusion that ye have some control over your circumstances.

knowing what o'clock it is gives ye the illusion that ye have some control over your circumstances.

He would feel it begin to slip away when he left—that thin veneer of humanity—more of it gone with each step away from the farmhouse. Sometimes he would keep the illusion of warmth and family all the way to the cave where he hid; other times it would disappear almost at once, torn away by a chill wind, rank and acrid with the scent of burning.

remembering so acutely Jamie's flesh and weight and ardor, and so urgently wanted him to be Jamie that I had succeeded for an instant in thinking that he was, only to be crushed like a grape at the realization that he wasn't, all my soft insides spurting out. Had he felt or thought the same things, waking to find me there beside him?

That's sort of what showbusiness is - a charade. People are basing their assumptions about you on half the facts. The rest of it just isn't true.

Hollywood's a very weird place. I think there's less of everything except for attitude.

The quality of CGI, audiences are now so used to it. They don't know what is CGI and what is real.