real-world

It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.

Be a lady? Forget it. Ladies don't last a day in the real word. No one's a lady anymore. Why do you think we get our claws polished?

I've wandered through the real world, and written myself through the darkness of the streets inside me. I see people walking through the city and wonder where they've been, and what the moments of their lives have done to them. If they're anything like me, their moments have held them up and shot them down.Sometimes I just survive.But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.That's when the stories show up in me.They find me all the time.They're made of underdogs and fighters. They're made of hunger and desire and trying to live decent.The only trouble is, I don't know which of those stories comes first.Maybe they all just merge into one.We'll see, I guess.I'll let you know when I decide.

If we demand perfection from ourselves we are not living in the real world...The inherent problem in the relationship between the ideal & the real is that the ideal judges the real as unacceptable and brings down condemnation and wrath on the real. This sets up an adversarial relationship between the two and like all adversaries, they move further and further apart.

_"It always seemed somehow less real here... a really detailed dream, but sort of washed out, like a thin watercolor. Softer, somehow, even with their electric light and engines and everything. I guess it was because there was hardly any magic.

Imagination is the parallel universe of a writer. If he is not responding to you in this world, he is probably responding to someone in the imaginary world.

I acknowledge the challenge of believing in a supernatural divinity. After all, in the natural a rock is a rock; a desk is a desk; my skin is my skin. Or are they? That rock you pick up and feel on your skin and place on the desk is 99.9% empty space__etween atoms; as is your skin and the desk. So, perhaps it is our perception of the natural or __eal_ world that needs tweaking, not the supernatural.

Real life doesn't grant us many of the more than useful possibilities people can come out with in fiction.

Newton's laws of physics can rarely be applied to the real world. There is more to life than cause and effect. Things just aren't that simple

Welcome to the real world, Mother Robot, a beautiful and dangerous place. Now you can truly begin to live.

And it's his illusions about whatconstitutes the real world which are inhibiting him...His reality, his reason, his society ... These are what must be destroyed

I'd decided the campus was just a place to hide. There were some campus freaks who stayed on forever. The whole college scene was soft. They never told you what to expect out there in the real world. They just crammed you with theory and never told you how hard the pavements were. A college education could destroy an individual for life. Books could make you soft. When you put them down, and really went out there, then you needed to know what they never told you.

The sea in all its vastness is its own, real world. Man is nature's sci-fi.

The real world__here I probably could never be happy, and never get anywhere.

If the world you created on your own is stronger than the real world, then the real world disappears and you stay alone with your own created world!

I can replace things, but I could never replace my wife and kids.

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.

You can't just pick up a gun and become a gunfighter, or go off and explore for a new world, or pull a sword out of a stone, or rescue a damsel in distress, or-- so we play games and we read books because the world isn't the world we thought we were supposed to get, the world we thought we'd been promised by somebody. Because things didn't turn out the way they were supposed to. So we go someplace else.