Best 10944 quotes in «reality quotes» category

In short, the man displayed a constant and insurmountable impulse to wrap himself in a covering, to make himself, so to speak, a case which would isolate him and protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in continual agitation, and, perhaps to justify his timidity, his aversion for the actual, he always praised the past and what had never existed; and even the classical languages which he taught were in reality for him goloshes and umbrellas in which he sheltered himself from real life.

in simple terms, what you perceive as real, is actually a neurological reconstruction or simulation of the actual real thing. It’s not as simple as saying, we see as it is. Actually we do not ever see as it is.

In some languages (Hindi is one), every perception is called "seeing". Maybe, the trick is to rely on the eyes less and less as one perceives more and more.

In spring, the snow must go; in fall, the leaves can't stay.

Instead of letting our emotions run amok, we can use our minds as tools to build or create realities that serve us better

In spite of her desire for a contained universe, her life felt scattered, full of many small moments, without great purpose. That is what she thought, though what is most untrustworthy about our natures and self-worth is how we differe in our own realities from the way we are seen by others.

In telling a story one of the most successful devices for easily creating uncanny effects is to leave the reader in uncertainty whether a particular figure in the story is a human being or an automaton and to do it in such a way that his attention is not focused directly upon his uncertainty, so that he may not be led to go into the matter and clear it up immediately.

Interestingly, this speech by Prospero does not contrast the unreality of the stage with the solid, flesh-and-blood existence of real men and women. On the contrary, it seizes on the flimsiness of dramatic characters as a metaphor for the fleeting, fantasy-ridden quality of actual human lives. It is we who are made of dreams, not just such figments of Shakespeare’s imagination as Ariel and Caliban. The cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces of this earth are mere stage scenery after all.

In the business people with expertise, experience and evidence will make more profitable decisions than people with instinct, intuition and imagination.

In the end, I'm not interested in that which I fully understand. The words I have written over the years are just a veneer. There are truths that lie beneath the surface of the words... truths that rise up without warning, like the humps of a sea monster and then disappear. What performance and song is to me is finding a way to tempt the monster to the surface, to create a space, where the creature can break through what is real and what is known to us. This shimmering space, where imagination and reality intersect... this is where all love and tears and joy exist. This is the place. This is where we live.

In the end, all or nothing will matter.

In the external reality, an action is required for the manifestation, but in the internal reality, all you need is your presence. Just with the inner presence, things begin to unfold.

In the history of philosophy, the term “rationalism” has two distinct meanings. In one sense, it signifies an unbreached commitment to reasoned thought in contrast to any irrationalist rejection of the mind. In this sense, Aristotle and Ayn Rand are preeminent rationalists, opposed to any form of unreason, including faith. In a narrower sense, however, rationalism contrasts with empiricism as regards the false dichotomy between commitment to so-called “pure” reason (i.e., reason detached from perceptual reality) and an exclusive reliance on sense experience (i.e., observation without inference therefrom). Rationalism, in this sense, is a commitment to reason construed as logical deduction from non-observational starting points, and a distrust of sense experience (e.g., the method of Descartes). Empiricism, according to this mistaken dichotomy, is a belief that sense experience provides factual knowledge, but any inference beyond observation is a mere manipulation of words or verbal symbols (e.g., the approach of Hume). Both Aristotle and Ayn Rand reject such a false dichotomy between reason and sense experience; neither are rationalists in this narrow sense. Theology is the purest expression of rationalism in the sense of proceeding by logical deduction from premises ungrounded in observable fact—deduction without reference to reality. The so-called “thinking” involved here is purely formal, observationally baseless, devoid of facts, cut off from reality. Thomas Aquinas, for example, was history’s foremost expert regarding the field of “angelology.” No one could match his “knowledge” of angels, and he devoted far more of his massive Summa Theologica to them than to physics.

In the long run, fictions create more frustration and anger in people since they get so addicted to it that they find reality quite boring and cumbersome.

In the life of a mobster truth doesn’t really matter.

In The Republic, Plato imagines human beings chained for the duration of their lives in an underground cave, knowing nothing but darkness. Their gaze is confined to the cave wall, upon which shadows of the world are thrown. They believe these flickering shadows are reality. If, Plato writes, one of these prisoners is freed and brought into the sunlight, he sill suffer great pain. Blinded by the glare, he is unable to seeing anything and longs for the familiar darkness. But eventually his eyes adjust to the light. The illusion of the tiny shadows is obliterated. He confronts the immensity, chaos, and confusion of reality. The world is no longer drawn in simple silhouettes. But he is despised when he returns to the cave. He is unable to see in the dark as he used to. Those who never left the cave ridicule him and swear never to go into the light lest they be blinded as well.

In the underworld, reality itself has elastic properties and is capable of being stretched into different definitions of the truth.

In the terms of 'Mental Illness' Isn't stable a place they put horses that wish to run free?

In the vastness of the cosmos, thoughts become reality; words become flesh.

In this universe, all we perceive is a virtual reality created by the neurons.

In this way Fate outplayed the efforts of mortals-simply to amuse itself, one might think.

In this stillness that is at the same time movement, in this darkness that is at the same time light, change is found not in the realm of ideas but in the energizing desire that is realized through precipitation. Desire tends towards its own realization and change takes place when the desire for it shatters the bounds of the possible, breaking the dialectical equilibrium holding together the framework of what is existent. It is at such moments that the imaginary flows into the real and overwhelms it, inundating it until it has been absorbed.

In today's society, the cell phone has become a remote control. People do not leave their homes without it. With it, they navigate the world and this device turns into their guide to reality.

Into a land of fantasy With haste we cast them all aside No tearing if you cannot see That is what we all make-believe

In today's world, honesty has unfortunately morphed into an extremely expensive hobby...and is no more a virtue that it once was. By the same token, not everyone has what it takes to pay the price for indulging in it and maintaining it, relentlessly, under all circumstances.

In truth, people know very little about each other. I only know as much about you as I know about myself.

In Western culture, virtually everything is understood through the process of storytelling, often to the detriment of reality. When we recount history, we tend to use the life experience of one person — the “journey” of a particular “hero,” in the lingo of the mythologist Joseph Campbell — as a prism for understanding everything else.

In your mind is your reality. In your heart is your humanity. In your soul is your divinity.

I often find human behavior amusing. Like having a full refrigerator of food to eat yet buying fast food instead. If you learn to conquer the two big "N" words. Niceties vs Necessities. You might actually have some funds for the hard times that come.

I only come out for food.

I often struggle with the perception of the USA and the reality, as they are distinctly different.

In your mind you are cheating somebody, but in reality you are cheating yourself.

I realize that humans cannot bear very much reality. Most lives are a flight from selfhood. Most prefer the truths of the stable. You stick your heads into the stanchions and munch contentedly until you die. Others use you for their purposes. Not once do you live outside the stable to lift your head and be your own creature. Muad'Dib came to tell you about that. Without understanding his message, you cannot revere him!

I reach down and grab my cock the rolling scenery in my mind far from peaceful

I realized, when I saw the forest burning, how fascinating the firelight is. It's beautiful, and people stare at it, don't they? It destroys things and kills people, but humans love it. Is it because they crave their own destruction, Sam? I want to understand your kind. I am going out into the wider world, and I must learn. But first things first. First, to escape this shell, this egg in which I have gestated, all eyes will be on the fire, all eyes blinded by the smoke, and when I walk out of here, out into your large world with its billions, no one will even see. It's the beauty of light, don't you see, Sam? It reveals, but it also distracts and blinds. It's even better than darkness.

I really like Google+ it's much better than face book. The only game you can play on it is life. Which is a game that can only be played and never won.

I refuse to settle for what you call reality.

I repeat one of my mantras. 'This is not happening. This is not real. This did not happen to you. That was someone else.

...I retreat into my fictional world where everything makes sense - but even there I can't even control what people do...

Is déjà vu actually the specter of false timelines that never happened but did, casting their shadows upon reality?

I shook my head, folding my arms around my waist. He was wrong; he was the one offering fairy dust, Peter Pan offering to carry me off to the Neverland of soulfinders and happily ever after. But he was too late. Last night i had to grew up and I now knew that such dreams did not exist; real life was more like living with Captain Hook's mercenary pirates than playing happy families in a treehouse

I should also say, in case it needs saying: I don't know for sure that the words I write were the words that were actually spoken. They probably weren't. But this is how I remember these things, and all we can ever be is faithful to our memories of reality, rather than the reality itself, which is something closely related but never precisely the same thing.

I should still, paradoxical as it may sound, like to maintain the opposite valuation of the dream in relation to the mysterious foundation of our being, whose phenomena we are. The more aware I become of these omnipotent art impulses in nature, and find in them an ardent longing for illusion and for redemption by illusion, the more I feel compelled to make the metaphysical assumption that the truly existent, the primal Oneness, eternally suffering and contradictory, also needs the delightful vision, the pleasurable illusion for its constant redemption: an illusion that we, utterly caught up in it and consisting of it—as a continuous becoming in time, space and causality, in other words—are required to see as empirical reality.

Is it not late? A late time to be living? Are not our generations the crucial ones? For we have changed the world. Are not our heightened times the important ones? For we have nuclear bombs. Are we not especially significant because our century is? - our century and its unique Holocaust, its refugee populations, its serial totalitarian exterminations; our century and its antibiotics, silicon chips, men on the moon, and spliced genes? No, we are not and it is not. These times of ours are ordinary times, a slice of life like any other. Who can bear to hear this, or who will consider it?... Take away the bomb threat and what are we? Ordinary beads on a never-ending string. Our time is a routine twist of an improbable yarn...There must be something heroic about our time, something that lifts it above all those other times. Plague? Funny weather? Dire things are happening... Why are we watching the news, reading the news, keeping up with the news? Only to enforce our fancy - probably a necessary lie - that these are crucial times, and we are in on them. Newly revealed, and we are in the know: crazy people, bunches of them. New diseases, shifts in power, floods! Can the news from dynastic Egypt have been any different?

Is it a weakness not being able to hate? Or is it preparation for what is inevitable, the ability only to love.

Is my imagination as important as reality? Sometimes I think YES... It's imagination what makes reality tolerable... Sometimes, I just want to close my eyes and fall in to the endless imagination...

is reality simply a dream we share?

I spent many years trying to make up reasons about why I had the flashbacks, memories, continuous nightmares. When I finally decided to quit trying to hide from truth, I began to heal.

I spoke of the tragic illusion of perpetuity, but, no, my friends, it is a comic one. The ludicrous plot in which we are all trapped. The ancient Greeks referred to plot as mythos, attributing the random drift of human affairs to some sort of unknowable but glimpsable divine motion, attempting to attach a certain grandeur to it, the delusion of meaning. But we are characters who do not exist, in a story composed by no one from nothing. Can anything be more pitiable? No wonder we all are grieving.

I subscribe to the anthropic principle: there are an infinite number of infinite universes, each with slightly different physical laws. Only some of them have the right parameters, such as gravity the right strength to allow stars to be born and live long. Where the charge on the electron is right to allow complex molecules to form, etc. Ours is one that allows intelligent life to form, so that the universe may wonder at itself. We *are* the universe, in wonder of itself. -- Google: "Anthropic principle