Best 18573 quotes in «real quotes» category

Curses to the crooked, to the liars and to the immoral people, because only truth must triumph.

Damn real live people, getting in the way of peaceful ideals.

Death must die so that life can be real!

Death is the only fantasy that becomes real for all humans.

DeLois lived up the block on 142nd Street and never had her hair done, and all the neighbourhood women sucked their teeth as she walked by. Her crispy hair twinkled in the summer sun as her big proud stomach moved her on down the block while I watched, not caring whether or not she was a poem.

Don Quixote is not an imaginary person; he is as real as Alexander the Great.

Don't be about just any life. Be about the life you want to be about.

Don't be afraid of the dark, it's a place where you can hide.

Don’t feel guilty about vacationing. What are you truly living and working for anyways? Death is all too real.

Don't focus on the words i write, pay attention to the ones i don't. These lines won't tell you much about me, try to read in between these lines.

Don't go in for the "yellowish" if what you need is "yellow". The attitude called precision is the quality that remarks the accuracy of your demand. Never settle for the less; Go for the exact thing!

Don't make any opinion if you haven't correct knowledge

Dreams can either die young or mature to become realities depending on how they are handled!

Don't suffocate your spirit for the lessons that were only passing through spring.

Don't trust anything, motivations vary.

During these hard times in the world we should always remember to keep our families and friends close.

Every act and choice you make is creating the real you and shaping your real life.

…even if I discover that I don't particularly like or agree with them, I still can see that they are human beings, just like me. They are not an idea. They are not a concept. They are a real, living and breathing human being who is just trying to figure everything out, just like I am.

Eloquence.— We need both what is pleasing and what is real, but that which pleases must itself be drawn from the true.

Entertainment is temporary happiness, but the real happiness is permanent entertainment.

Eres tan real como cualquiera, y tus dudas te hacen más real, no menos

Everyone has things they are afraid of, real and imaginary.

Fiction is written with reality and reality is written with fiction. We can write fiction because there is reality and we can write reality because there is fiction; everything we consider today to be myth and legend, our ancestors believed to be history and everything in our history includes myths and legends. Before the splendid modern-day mind was formed our cultures and civilizations were conceived in the wombs of, and born of, what we identify today as "fiction, unreality, myth, legend, fantasy, folklore, imaginations, fabrications and tall tales." And in our suddenly realized glory of all our modern-day "advancements" we somehow fail to ask ourselves the question "Who designated myths and legends as unreality? " But I ask myself this question because who decided that he was spectacular enough to stand up and say to our ancestors "You were all stupid and disillusioned and imagining things" and then why did we all decide to believe this person? There are many realities not just one. There is a truth that goes far beyond what we are told today to believe in. And we find that truth when we are brave enough to break away from what keeps everybody else feeling comfortable. Your reality is what you believe in. And nobody should be able to tell you to believe otherwise.

Everyone may know of your idea; even though, it will never be as it real as you thought.

Everyone tells us to be one in a million... What they don't tell us is that being one in a million also means being one against a million.

Excuses Take You Far Away... Far Away from the Real Truth. Be Your Self, it All Start with You... _nickc

Find people who can handle your darkest truths, who don’t change the subject when you share your pain, or try to make you feel bad for feeling bad. Find people who understand we all struggle, some of us more than others, and that there’s no weakness in admitting it. In fact, few things take as much strength. Find people who want to be real, however that looks and feels, and who want you to be real, too. Find people who get that life is hard, and who get that life is also beautiful, and who aren’t afraid to honor both those realities. Find people who help you feel more at home in your heart, mind and body, and who take joy in your joy. Find people who love you, for real, and who accept you, for real. Just as you are. They’re out there, these people. Your tribe is waiting for you. Don’t stop searching until you find them. 9/30/16 Then her heart opened wider than it ever had before, and all she saw before her, everywhere she looked, were people to love.

Find your truth and make your existence real as you choose it. Your creation is your own greatest gift. (Neings of Light via Joules)

First love yourself.. the real inner-self.. then only you’ll be able to love the world.. the lives.. the souls.

For seventy years we have been brushing our teeth and yet they have not become clean, so is that thing for real or is it a falsity?

For someone to be perfect, they must be real, however imperfect they are.

For several years, I had been bored. Not a whining, restless child's boredom (although I was not above that) but a dense, blanketing malaise. It seemed to me that there was nothing new to be discovered ever again. Our society was utterly, ruinously derivative (although the word derivative as a criticism is itself derivative). We were the first human beings who would never see anything for the first time. We stare at the wonders of the world, dull-eyed, underwhelmed. Mona Lisa, the Pyramids, the Empire State Building. Jungle animals on attack, ancient icebergs collapsing, volcanoes erupting. I can't recall a single amazing thing I have seen firsthand that I didn't immediately reference to a movie or TV show. A fucking commercial. You know the awful singsong of the blasé: Seeeen it. I've literally seen it all, and the worst thing, the thing that makes me want to blow my brains out, is: The secondhand experience is always better. The image is crisper, the view is keener, the camera angle and the soundtrack manipulate my emotions in a way reality can't anymore. I don't know that we are actually human at this point, those of us who are like most of us, who grew up with TV and movies and now the Internet. If we are betrayed, we know the words to say; when a loved one dies, we know the words to say. If we want to play the stud or the smart-ass or the fool, we know the words to say. We are all working from the same dog-eared script. It's a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters. And if all of us are play-acting, there can be no such thing as a soul mate, because we don't have genuine souls. It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I'm not a real person and neither is anyone else. I would have done anything to feel real again.

Fuck the ones who hurt you Stop thinking about them, Get on with your own life They'll eventually come back with apologies And you'll gladly accept them; as you keep growing with your life.

Four laughs vibrate in harmony, Warm Delicious Real.

General belief is “There is no real magic, only tricks” but a great magician compel people not to trust that belief and make them believe, after all "There does exist a real magic".

Future is something imaginary but the present moment is something real!

Genuine faith will produce genuine changes in your life.

God is busy blessing us all

Given the all-pervasive nature of deformism, its saturation of the culture at every level and in every area, it may seem an impossible task to free oneself from it and to create a healthy and nourishing environment in the midst of this soul-choking atmosphere. But it is not impossible. The human spirit, the feminine spirit, cannot and will not admit defeat.

Hey, GreenHollyWood ruin my vision. I don't want to be gay... because what's shown in Mr.Robot it's geysish, mother fucker!

He's basically a good man. But he doesn't know me. Any more than he knew that girl that looked after your mother. He can't know me, not the way I know him. Maybe some of these Hawaiians can, or the Indians on the reservation. They've seen their fathers humiliated. Their mothers desecrated. But your grandfather will never know what that feels like.

Habíamos estado viviendo en un cuento de hadas, en un sueño, pero esas cosas no son reales. [...] debo decir que creo firmemente que el amor perfecto no existe. El amor no necesita ser perfecto, sólo necesita ser verdadero.

Home is where the heart is. That's what they always say. But where does home begin,If you have lost your way. Do you turn to family or neighbors you don't know? You heart may wonder far and wide until you learn to grow. You go outside and look around to see what you can see From little birds too big tall trees you realize beauty is free.

How is it every time we're talking about the real world, you manage to bring up fantasy, and every time we're talking about fantasy, you manage to bring up the real world? Travis shrugged. "My fantasies are more interesting than the real world and machines and tools are more interesting than you guys' fantasies.

How is it that we have over 6 billion people in the world and half of them feel alone?

How do we stop them?” Edilio asked. He raised his head, and Sam saw the distress on his face. “How do you think we stop them? When your fifteenth birthday rolls around, the easy thing is to take the poof. You gotta fight to resist it. We know that. So how are we going to tell kids this isn’t real, this Orsay thing?” “We just tell them,” Astrid said. “But we don’t know if it’s real or not,” Edilio argued. Astrid shrugged. She stared at nothing and kept her features very still. “We tell them it’s all fake. Kids hate this place, but they don’t want to die.” “How do we tell them if we don’t know?” Edilio seemed genuinely puzzled. Howard laughed. “Deely-O, Deely-O, you are such a doof sometimes.” He put his feet down and leaned toward Edilio as if sharing a secret with him. “She means: We lie. Astrid means that we lie to everyone and tell them we do know for sure.” Edilio stared at Astrid like he was expecting her to deny it. “It’s for people’s own good,” Astrid said in a low voice, still looking at nothing. “You know what’s funny?” Howard said, grinning. “I was pretty sure we were coming to this meeting so Astrid could rank on Sam for not telling us the whole truth. And now, it turns out we’re really here so Astrid can talk us all into becoming liars.

How to recognize what is real? To know the layers and depths of oneself, to know how to open, to know how to fill a capacious hold-all, to know one’s own quirks and nervous twitches, cravings and transparencies, and, above all the force, literally the force, of events, connections, the wild calm in every thing.

Hygge stems from a society that is focused on people rather than things. It is linked to the language of love and to the idea that real wealth is not what we can accumulate but what we have to share.

Human experience is not nest and orderly, ready to be coded into predetermined categories. Real life is messy

I also think of those daily slaughters along the highways, of that death that is as horrible as it is banal and that bears no resemblance to cancer or AIDS because, as the work not of nature but of man, it is an almost voluntary death. How can it be that such a death fails to dumbfound us, to turn our lives upside down, to incite us to vast reforms? No, it does not dumbfound us, because like Pasenow, we have a poor sense of the real, and in the sur-real sphere of symbols, this death in the guise of a handsome car actually represents life; this smiling death is con-fused with modernity, freedom, adventure, just as Elisabeth was con-fused with the Virgin. This death of a man condemned to capital punishment, though infinitely rarer, much more readily draws our attention, rouses passions: confounded with the image of the executioner, it has a symbolic voltage that is far stronger, far darker and more repellent. Et cetera. Man is a child wandering lost—to cite Baudelaire`s poem again—in the "forests of symbols." (The criterion of maturity: the ability to resist symbols. But mankind grows younger all the time.)