Ne të gjithë jemi duke shkuar për të vdekur, të gjithë ne, çfarë cirku! Kjo vetë duhet të na bëjë ta duam njëri-tjetrin, por kjo nuk e bën. Ne jemi të terrorizuar dhe të rrafshuar nga trivialiteti, ne jemi duke u ngrënë nga asgjëja.
Charles BukowskiTag: reality shqip thenie charles-bukowski aforizma
If you distance yourself from reality and just cling to cliches about democracy find yourself a different job than analyzing politics
Hany GhorabaTag: politics reality democracy analysis policitical
Closed in a room, my imagination becomes the universe, and the rest of the world is missing out.
Criss JamiTag: imagination life art perception reading thinking experience reality poetry writing perspective solitude dreams fantasy universe fun artist thoughts artistic songwriting vicarious contemplating
You'll notice you don't have both feet on the ground when you don't have any friends around
Stanley Victor PaskavichTag: life friendship reality faults conceited
People need to stop accepting the evidence of reality, and start questioning it.
Lionel SuggsTag: truth reality questioning uncertainty
The real Julian Wells didn't die in a cherry-red convertible, overdosing on a highway in Joshua Tree while a choir soared over the sound track.
Bret Easton EllisTag: reality writing fiction consequences
Its oke to be sad. I've been trained to love my darkness
Lady GagaTag: life love reality heartbreak
How do I know you're not crazy?" she asks. "How do I know you're not the craziest dude I've ever met?"
"You'll have to test me out."
"You have my info," she says. "I'll think about it."
"Rain," I say. "That's not your real name."
"Does it matter?"
"Well, it makes me wonder what else isn't real."
"That's because you're a writer," she says. "That's because you make things up for a living."
"And?"
"And"-- she shrugs--"I've noticed that writers tend to worry about things like that.
Tag: truth reality lies writing identity sanity socializing
Acquaint yourself with your own ignorance.
Isaac WattsTag: honesty reality ignorance self-realization
But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I wasn't going anywhere. I was myself, waiting on the shore for me to return.
Was that so depressing?
Who knows? Maybe that was 'despair.' What Turgenev called 'disillusionment.' Or Dostoyevsky, 'hell.' Or Somerset Maugham, 'reality.' Whatever the label, I figured it was me.
Tag: disillusionment reality despair self hell dostoyevsky maugham
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