Best 10944 quotes in «reality quotes» category

I wanna know something,” Lexi said. “In mystery books, clues come flying out of nowhere in every single chapter. Why is ours so slow?” I thought a second. “Books aren't like real life, I guess. Mom says we read books to escape. Like when we read Sally-Anne books, we go back to when everyone wore saddle shoes and poodle skirts and went to soda shops.

I want to get lose in your eyes and be brought back to reality with your kisses.

I was deluded, and I knew it. Worse: my love for Pippa was muddied-up below the waterline with my mother, with my mother's death, with losing my mother and not being able to get her back. All that blind, infantile hunger to save and be saved, to repeat the past and make it different, had somehow attached itself, ravenously, to her. There was an instability in it, a sickness. I was seeing things that weren't there. I was only one step away from some trailer park loner stalking a girl he'd spotted in the mall. For the truth of it was: Pippa and I saw each other maybe twice a year; we e-mailed and texted, though with no great regularity; when she was in town we loaned each other books and went to the movies; we were friends; nothing more. My hopes for a relationship with her were wholly unreal, whereas my ongoing misery, and frustration, were an all-too-horrible reality. Was groundless, hopeless, unrequited obsession any way to waste the rest of my life?

I was dizzy in that room. I felt faint with disbelief. I held on to the seat of my chair to stay upright. I knew what was going on, but I couldn’t absorb any of it.

I was not looking for HIM, he was just always there, the little BOY! I have not seen HIM, because I did not want to see, but HE was standing next to my bed every night, the little BOY! I have not heard their cry because I have forbidden HIM there to cry. But one day, when I woke up, did I knew seen, so sad and lonely! I wanted to tell HIM that it's all going to be good. But I could not because I knew that it is not so! And we both cried, I and the LITTLE BOY IN ME!

I wasn't sure how much was real and how much was fantasy, but it didn't matter because it made her smile.

I was a slave to my own darkness, believing in my false created, thought-identified identity so much that it forged what felt like a wasteland of a reality.

I was used, fucked, broken, toyed with and violated from the age of six.

I wonder how much the general population of this country know that the legal system has far more to do with playing a good hand of poker than it does with justice.

I was reminded of a painter friend who had started her career by depicting scenes from life, mainly deserted rooms, abandoned houses and discarded photographs of women. Gradually, her work became more abstract, and in her last exhibition, her paintings were splashes of rebellious color, like the two in my living room, dark patches with little droplets of blue. I asked about her progress from modern realism to abstraction. Reality has become so intolerable, she said, so bleak, that all I can paint now are the colors of my dreams.

I wasn’t sure what was worse: being oblivious or living within reality. (Eric)

Learn the art of bringing your dreams alive within your own reality.

Life is like a quicksand; no matter how careful or lucky we’re, we all spend our lives seconds from disaster.

Learn to see things as they are; not as you are.

I wonder if I talk like a dead man. My daughter once came home from school very excited about some lecture -this was years ago, before I died, though just right before- and she said her English teacher had talked about what the dead sound like in Dante. This funny thing about Dante's dead, which is that they know the past, and even the future, but they don't know the present. About the present they have all these questions for Dante. And that somehow is what being alive is, to be suspended in the time. She seemed to feel that really meant something. That and also that the dead know themselves better than the living do.

Live and Let Live !

Life is beautiful and weird.

Life is like sand on the beach. Each time the waves comes to the edge, it takes a little bit of you”.

Live, you say, in the present; Live only in the present. But I don’t want the present, I want reality; I want things that exist, not time that measures them. What is the present? It’s something relative to the past and the future. It’s a thing that exists in virtue of other things existing. I only want reality, things without the present. I don’t want to include time in my scheme. I don’t want to think about things as present; I want to think of them as things. I don’t want to separate them from themselves, treating them as present. I shouldn’t even treat them as real. I should treat them as nothing. I should see them, only see them; See them till I can’t think about them. See them without time, without space, To see, dispensing with everything but what you see. And this is the science of seeing, which isn’t a science.

Living with contradiction may be nothing new to humans, but acknowledging it, and accepting it are. Even the dictionary has trouble accepting a paradox, calling it 'two things that seem to be contradictory but may possibly be true.' But that's not a real paradox--a real paradox IS contradictory and IS true. So I don't even call them paradoxes anymore, I call them 'contradictory co-existing realities,' both in direct opposition to each other, both true at the same time.

Live in your dream and then make it your reality.

Logic is the art of non-contradictory identification. A contradiction cannot exist. No concept man forms is valid unless he integrates it without contradiction into the total sum of his knowledge. To arrive at a contradiction is to confess an error in one’s thinking; to maintain a contradiction is to abdicate one’s mind and to evict oneself from the realm of reality

Logic can't explain the salmon swimming upstream. So it denies the existence of salmon.

Logo Designing is an art to transform the Strong build and Conceptual Imagination into the reality

Loneliness is the biggest enemy of a human. Cause it is more than the enemy. When a person becomes lonely from inside, no one can save the person from sinking under the deep sea of end.

Look at you child, look what he's done to you," she said. My knees had been tortured like this enough times in my life that I'd stopped thinking of it as out of the ordinary; it was just something you had to put up with from time to time, like the common cold. But suddenly the look on Rosaleen's face cut through all that. Look what he's done to you.

Look At Only The Reality Because Reality Is Better Than Fantasy

Living is not an art, but to write of life is. Life is a series of accidents and anticlimaxes, misremembered and misunderstood, with lessons only dimly learned. Life is disorganized, lacks shape, lacks story.

Lord, What a terrible shame. You're so attractive!' I know, I want to tell her. It should have happened to someone really ugly. And then it wouldn't have mattered.

Look Below and You'll feel Rich, Look Above and You'll feel Poor

Look, people need to conform the external reality they face daily with this subjective feeling they likewise experience constantly. To do this they have two options. First, they can achieve what passes for great things. Now the external reality matches their feeling; they really are better than the rest and maybe they'll even be remembered as such. These are the ambitious people, the overachievers. These are also, however, the people who go on these abominable talk shows where they can trade their psychoses for exposure on that box, modernity's ultimate achievement. Not that this tact, being ambitious, is not the preferred course of action. The reason is it's the equivalent of sticking your neck out which we all know is dangerous. Instead many act like they have no ambition whatsoever. Their necks come back in and they're safe. Only problem is now they're at everyone else's level, which we've seen is untenable. The remedy of course is that everyone else needs to be sunk. This helps explain racism's enduring popularity. If I myself don't appear to be markedly superior to everyone else at least I'm part of the better race, country, religion et cetera. This in turn reflects well on my individual worth. There are other options, of course. For example, you can constantly bemoan others' lack of moral worth by extension elevating yourself. Think of the average person's reaction to our clients. Do these people strike you as so truly righteous that they are viscerally pained by our clients' misdeeds or are they similarly flawed people looking for anything to hang their hat on? The latter obviously, they're vermin.

Lost in a Medley of Medication, Concentration’s constantly drifting. Floating like confetti, In celebration of my opposition, Forcing me to watch the Imperfections of Love being pinned into submission.

Love isn’t a spell. Not if it’s the sort of love that wakes us up. Then it’s a spell-breaker, not a spell-maker.

Love is a fake!” Olson was blaring. “There are three great truths in the world and they are a good meal, a good screw, and a good shit, and that’s all!

Love is just a mask. All we search is a Comfort, Acceptance. Consolation. Affirmation. Assurance. Indulgence. Isolation. Absolution and Remission.

Love is not for thrill-seekers, dreamers, or children with short attention spans. And you, son, fit into all three of those categories.

Love is the first step toward breaking up

Love is the suspension of reality in favor of the sublime.

Love is sweeter than reality.

Love left us long back, we just got better. You at pretending, Me at hiding.

Love is the only thing in this whole universe, that can make the roses grow out of the swords.

Love makes you free without an asterisk mark.

Love me like today is the last day we can see stars in the sky, let us sleep under them and throw ourselves into the oblivion and never again reach out for reality.

Loving a person doesn’t make them who you desire; it makes you vulnerable to their reality.

Love must face reality If it is to survive

Magic has its own weight, and that weight, the gravity of it, is pulling the fabric of reality like a bowling ball on a spandex sheet.

Mais ce qu'il éprouvait, ce qu'il comprenait, et ce dont il jouissait par-dessus tout, [...] c'était l'idéalité triomphante de la musique, de l'art, du cœur humain, la haute et irréfutable sublimation qu'ils faisaient subir à la vulgaire laideur de la réalité.

Mais quand l'esprit devient conscient, quand la vitesse de l'évolution augmente, alors il faut faire attention - faire attention au monde. Il faut apprendre la manière, l'art, les limites. Un esprit conscient doit être une partie du tout, volontairement, et en prenant des précautions... Comme le rocher est inconsciemment une partie de l'ensemble. Comprenez-vous? Cela a-t-il un sens pour vous?

Management of your conscious reality is imperative.

Manifestation is a process by which we transform seemingly unrealizable imaginations to reality.