reality

The dumbest thing one could ever do is to hold on to something that is slippery

A real man__eal in all the ways that we recognize as real__inds himself suddenly abstracted from the world and deposited in a physical situation which could not possibly exist: sounds have aroma, smells have color and depth, sights have texture, touches have pitch and timbre. There he is informed by a disembodied voice that he has been brought to that place as a champion for his world. He must fight to the death in single combat against a champion from another world. If he is defeated, he will die, and his world__he real world__ill be destroyed because it lacks the inner strength to survive.The man refuses to believe that what he is told is true. He asserts that he is either dreaming or hallucinating, and declines to be put in the false position of fighting to the death where no "real" danger exists. He is implacable in his determination to disbelieve his apparent situation, and does not defend himself when he is attacked by the champion of the other

I am glad you are happy--but I never believe much in happiness. I never believe in misery either. Those are things you see on the stage or the screen or the printed page, they never really happen to you in life.

While you're governing the colony and I'm writing political philosophy, They'll never guess that in the darkness of night we sneak into each other's room and play checkers and have pillow fights.

There is light in a world of darkness because there is hope in a world of hatred.

Our everyday, traditional ideas of reality are delusions which we spend substantial parts of our daily lives shoring up, even at the considerable risk of trying to force facts to fit our definition of reality instead of vice versa. And the most dangerous delusion of all is that there is only one reality.

I no longer knew what was real and what wasn__. The lines between reality and delusion had become so blurred.

We own the things that claim that we are theirs.

People want us, or want us dead, because of what we are, not who we are. It's hard.

Language is a ladder that always falls short of reality.

People withhold their forgiveness, thinking that it makes them badass. But really, the unwillingness to forgive is merely the wishing that things were better. You wish that you had better, you wish that someone else were better so they could have treated you better... it__ you making wishes. And that__ not badass. To forgive is to be able to look at the person and say __ accept that you weren__ any better than what you were_, __ accept what you were you and couldn__ have been what I wished you to be_, __ accept that things were the way they were and weren__ any better._ The ability to forgive is intertwined with the ability to accept the reality of the way things are/ the way a person is or was. You stop wishing things and you just accept. And hope is what says to you: __ne day you__l have what__ better.

With each day, each hour and every moment of life, no matter how small, I realize that I have found a way of bringing me straight to the one person that I would give everything for_ to you. I am living in a dream, in a dream I don__ want to awake from.

Reality is created out of confusion and contradiction, and if you exclude those elements, you're no longer talking about reality. You might think that --by following language and a logic that appears consistent-- you're able to exclude that aspect of reality, but it will always be lying in wait for you, ready to take its revenge.

For every quote, there is one that challenges it.

Life without Ethan was something worse than a nightmare.It was real.So real that I refused to believe it.

...if you project the image you wish the world to see, eventually it will become reality.

First, a bath. I'm feeling soiled. Too much contact with cold reality, I think.

Appreciate her beauty, love her uniqueness and respect her reality.