reality

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?

Dreams become reality once the dreamer goes beyond imagining and acts them out.

Ga thought about reminding the Dear Leader that they lived in a land where people had been trained to accept any reality presented to them.

Reality is only as true as it is perceived. Reality does not change. How it is perceived does.

If you can't be real and firm with others about who you are, you will be doomed to a phony, plastic bullshit existence, where you only live for others.

Spirit means Breath and without one or the other there is no life.

I do not judge the individual based on their belief. If I were to, then I would, undoubtedly, be no better than the (religious) system that I frown upon.

Should' assumes that when either willingness or ability is lacking, it may be compensated for by an abundance of the other. This is simply not realistic.

Faith is stronger than so-called reality.

I knew it wouldn't last, that the reality would come snaking back in, but for a moment I saw it, the futility of trying to mold love into an expected shape. The foolishness of whining when it didn't fit.

People are living books. The real library of life is community.

I love flowers for being flowers, directly.And I love trees for being trees without my thought.

Tough love and brutal truth from strangers are far more valuable than Band-Aids and half-truths from invested friends, who don__ want to see you suffer any more than you have.

Most so-called success in the world is slavery.

Self-doubt imprisons those that never overcome it.

in exceptional circumstances _ exceptional in that all circumstances in life are exceptional, especially those which are nothing in themselves and come to be everything in their results.

the Great Vaccination _ the vaccination against the stupidity of the intelligentsia.

Among the books there were also some containing bombast. They didn't try to portray Nature as it is within and outside of man; rather, they tried to make it more beautiful, seeking to elicit certain effects. I turned away from them. If reality isn't sacred to them, how are they capable of creating something more beautiful than God's Creation?