Best 10944 quotes in «reality quotes» category

A deus ex machina will never appear in real life so you best make other arrangements.

A dream is a distant reality.

A dreamlike reality always looks like a real dream!

A dream is the reality of a future that exists in a person’s imagination.

A dream you once were, A dream of all my realities, A dream I can no long strive for In the wake of my manly betayals

Adventure is the best way to feel the reality thoroughly!

Adventuring turned out to be boring. Zach thought back to all the fantasy books he'd read where a team of questers traveled overland, and realized a few things. First he'd pictured himself with a loyal steed that would have done most of the walking, so he hadn't anticipated the blister forming on his left heel or the tiny pebble that seemed to have worked its way under his sock, so that even when he stripped off his sneaker he couldn't find it. He hadn't thought about how hot the sun would be either. When he put together his bunch of provisions, he never thought about bringing sunblock. Aragorn never wore sunblock. Taran never wore sunblock. Percy never wore sunblock. But despite all that precedent for going without, he was pretty sure his nose would be lobster-red the next time he looked in the mirror. He was thirsty, too, something that happened a lot in books, but his dry throat bothered him more than it had ever seemed to bother any character. And, unlike in books where random brigands and monsters jumped out just when things got unbearably dull, there was nothing to fight except for the clouds of gnats, several of which Zach was pretty sure he'd accidentally swallowed.

A feeling of dissociation from his senses, an inability to think straight or interpret what he sees and hears. Things begin to look and sound different, slower, artificial, unreal. The first time it happened he thought he was losing his mind, that the whole cognitive framework by which he made sense of the world had disintegrated for good, and everything from then on would just be undifferentiated sound and colour.

A forecast can be wrong, but not the weather.

A friend that complains virtually about everything is no good a friend but a distraction.

A fresh dream-fresh happiness! A fresh rush of delicate, voluptuous poison! What is real life to him ! To his corrupted eyes we live, you and I, Nastenka, so torpidly, slowly, insipidly; in his eyes we are all so dissatisfied with our fate, so exhausted by our life"! And, truly, see how at first sight everything is cold, morose, as though ill-humoured among us. . . . Poor things! thinks our dreamer. And it is no wonder that he thinks it! Look at these magic phantasms, which so enchantingly, so whimsically, so carelessly and freely group before him in such a magic, animated picture, in which the most prominent figure in the foreground is of course himself, our dreamer, in his precious person.

A friend who pays allegiance to his fellow friend just because of the favor and benefit he gets from him is no friend but an opportunist.

After all, I had been waiting decades for it to come. I wanted to escape this world, but only it could help me.

After four thousand years we can’t even prove that reality exists beyond the mind of the first-person dreamer.

After staring at the ceiling for more than an hour, I was finally asleep, but I wasn’t in my dream. I was walking and walking beside a small stream, and only stopped as I saw a big rounded tree. What made me stop was that the tree had leaves the size of a palm. Bigger then any size I had seen in my life. I stepped under its shade looking closer at the magical tree and found that my name was carved at its big trunk. I was still surprised and bewildered at my finding when I felt the tree shake and a leaf fell in front of me. I was about to pick it up when more and more leaves started to fall, Leaving the tree with only half of the leaves. I tried my best to stop my tree from shaking when I woke up from my dream. I was breathing heavily. My heart was beating fast. I was soaked. “My life, The leaves are falling one by one from my life.” I said to myself, as I closed my eyes hoping for my life to find spring again.

After two decades there she was, in front of him, almost within touching distance, not faded like in his dreams, but bright and clear and vividly real, looking comfortably, almost defiantly, the same as she always had and then everything she had never been.

After you've seen behind the facade of a stage set you can't take the play seriously any more. You can't go backwards and regain your ignorance; you have to move forward.

A funeral is like a little game, really. You have to just play along and say the right thing and behave the right way until it’s over. Be pleasant but don’t smile too much; be sad but don’t overdo it or the family will feel worse than they already do. Be hopeful but don’t let your optimism be taken as a lack of empathy or an inability to deal with the reality. Because if anybody was to be truly honest there would be a lot of arguments, finger-pointing, tears, snot, and screaming.

A girl who travels knows that deep down she is escaping reality. So she’ll want someone to give her hope and land back to the idea that reality isn’t as bad as it seems in the end. And if she tells you she loves you - it is exactly because you give her that hope

A good Athlete may not be a good Coach, likewise, a good Coach may not be a good Athlete

A heart has its multiple facets of daily music. Respect a genuine good heart.

David Park is a physicist and philosopher at Williams College in Massachusetts with a lifelong interest in a time which he too thinks doesn't pass. For Park, the passage of time is not so much an illusion as a myth, "because it involves no deception of the senses.... One cannot perform any experiment to tell unambiguously whether time passes or not." This is certainly a telling argument. After all, what reality can be attached to a phenomenon that can never be demonstrated experimentally? In fact, it is not even clear how to think about demonstrating the flow of time experimentally. As the apparatus, laboratory, experimenter, technicians, humanity generally and the universe as a whole are apparently caught up in the same inescapable flow, how can any bit of the universe be "stopped in time" in order to register the flow going on in the rest of it? It is analogous to claiming that the whole universe is moving through space at the same speed—or, to make the analogy closer, that space is moving through space. How can such a claim ever be tested?

Ah youth, youth! That's what happens when you go steeping your soul into Shakespeare

A kid thinking about fairy tales and believing in fairy tales Acts like a sick god, but like a god. Because even though he affirms that what doesn’t exist exists, He knows things exist, that he exists, He knows existing exists and doesn’t explain itself, And he knows there’s no reason at all for anything to exist. He knows being is the point. All he doesn’t know is that thought isn’t the point. (10/1/1917)

Alcohol, smoking, God, all these are means for the common human to escape the reality.

A leader in 10 minutes can unlock your potentials which in reality would have taken you 10 years to do without them.

A lie distorts the image of reality. It is a delusion of the human mind which can disrupt an individual's sense of what is morally right or wrong.

Al igual que todos nosotros, Klima también consideraba real únicamente aquello que llega a nuestra vida desde dentro, gradual, orgánicamente, mientras que a lo que llega desde fuera, inesperada y casualmente, lo veía como si fuera una invasión de lo irreal. Por desgracia no hay nada más real que esta irrealidad.

All doors have closed, poverty is so harsh.

All description is obscene. If it's real, if it exists, why do you need the words?

All events and people you have cherished in the past, and all events and people that are yet to happen to you, exist at all times. This for sure beats the traditional concept of heaven!

All experiences, emotions, behaviors and beliefs, that make us humans, are the creation of various intricate and inexplicable molecular interactions within the brain.

All he ever knew of her was who he saw every day. All I am is who I am every day. All anyone is to anyone is a series of days.

All her life, she believed that carrying so many things is what made her heart always heavier. But there came a day, when she finally realized that, what really makes it heavier is, not having anything there.

All I wanted was my art and the chance to be the creator of my own world, my own reality.

All our prayers can't keep a single leaf from falling.

All of Nature follows perfectly geometric laws. The Ancient Egyptian, Greek, Peruvian, Mayan, and Chinese cultures were well aware of this, as Phi—known as the Golden Ratio or Golden Mean—was used in the constructions of their sculptures and architecture.

All our emotions are real, but one has to be quite cautious with what supports their reality.

All personal god, yours or mine, are false. Unto existence nothing but an infinite oneness walks.

All realities are really tricks of consciousness.

All's a Oneness. There's nothing else.

All suffer and none should have to. But why not? If suffering makes life seem more real or more abstract, both circumstances are infinitely more bearable than the disturbing reality of mundane work-to-live-then-die-bored life.

All the drive in the world is worthless if you are driving yourself off a cliff.

All we know is what we're told.

All violent feelings have the same effect. They produce in us a falseness in all our impressions of external things.

All that matters is that your perception of reality is what you truly desire.

All truth is God's truth.

Always choose carefully what to accept and incorporate into your reality.

Although there are more than six million documents on the Internet addressing the issue of ritual abuse, few take as fair and comprehensive approach as this; many of the writings deny the existence of ritual abuse despite masses of evidence to the contrary. As a consequence, some victims are persistently re-abused psychologically by having to deal with the fact that organised abusers, their defenders and even police refute their realities and dismiss their reports as fantasy or mental illness. - Ritual Abuse & Torture in Australia (introduction)

Already we mistrust wakefulness; if we are dreaming, then let us dream, until our dream convinces us.