We have to allow ourselves to be loved by the people who really love us, the people who really matter. Too much of the time, we are blinded by our own pursuits of people to love us, people that don't even matter, while all that time we waste and the people who do love us have to stand on the sidewalk and watch us beg in the streets! It's time to put an end to this. It's time for us to let ourselves be loved.
[Love] [Inspirational] [People] [Humanity] [C. Joybell C.] [Inspirational Life] [Learning] [Reality] [Inspirational Quotes] [Life Lessons] [Life And Living] [True Love] [Growing] [Inspirational Love] [What Matters] [Real Love] [To Be Loved] [Reality Of Life] [Those Who Love Us]
Outside, the ocean was crashing, waves hitting sand, then pulling back to sea. I thought of everything being washed away, again and again. We make such messes in this life, both accidentally and on purpose. But wiping the surface clean doesn't really make anything neater. It just masks what is below. It's only when you really dig down deep, go underground, that you can see who you really are.
[Sarah Dessen] [Reality] [Realization] [Self Discovery]
Maybe each human being lives in a unique world, a private world different from those inhabited and experienced by all other humans. . . . If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn't we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe it's as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can't explain his to us, and we can't explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown in communication ... and there is the real illness.
[Reality] [Perception] [Philip K. Dick]
There?s no way that Michael Jackson or whoever Jackson should have a million thousand droople billion dollars and then there?s people starving. There?s no way! There?s no way that these people should own planes and there people don?t have houses. Apartments. Shacks. Drawers. Pants! I know you?re rich. I know you got 40 billion dollars, but can you just keep it to one house? You only need ONE house. And if you only got two kids, can you just keep it to two rooms? I mean why have 52 rooms and you know there?s somebody with no room?! It just don?t make sense to me. It don?t.
[Money] [Poverty] [Reality] [Rich] [Hungry] [Tupac Shakur]
The pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides taught that the only things that are real are things which never change... and the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus taught that everything changes. If you superimpose their two views, you get this result: Nothing is real.
[Truth] [Reality] [Epistemology] [Philip K. Dick] [Postmodern]
About dreams. It is usually taken for granted that you dream of something that has made a particularly strong impression on you during the day, but it seems to me it?s just the contrary. Often it?s something you paid no attention to at the time -- a vague thought that you didn?t bother to think out to the end, words spoken without feeling and which passed unnoticed -- these are the things that return at night, clothed in flesh and blood, and they become the subjects of dreams, as if to make up for having been ignored during waking hours.
[Dreams] [Reality] [Boris Pasternak]
A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank; he wishes to catch a glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals softly over the grass, careful to make no sound; he pauses -- fancying she has stirred: he withdraws: not for worlds would he be seen. All is still: he again advances: he bends above her; a light veil rests on her features: he lifts it, bends lower; now his eyes anticipate the vision of beauty -- warm, and blooming, and lovely, in rest. How hurried was their first glance! But how they fix! How he starts! How he suddenly and vehemently clasps in both arms the form he dared not, a moment since, touch with his finger! How he calls aloud a name, and drops his burden, and gazes on it wildly! He thus grasps and cries, and gazes, because he no longer fears to waken by any sound he can utter -- by any movement he can make. He thought his love slept sweetly: he finds she is stone dead. I looked with timorous joy towards a stately house: I saw a blackened ruin.
[Horror] [Charlotte Bronte] [Reality] [Charlotte Brontë] [Imagery] [Expectation] [Chapter 37]
Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you've lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that's good.
[Change] [Reality] [Growth] [Acceptance] [Resilience] [Elizabeth Edwards]