Virginia Woolf: Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel I can't go through another one of these terrible times and I shant recover this time. I begin to hear voices and can't concentrate so I am doing what seems to be the best thing...
Gilbert Huph: Look at me when I'm talking to you, Parr! Bob: [looking out the window] That man out there, he needs help! Gilbert Huph: Do not change the subject, Bob! We're discussing your attitude! Bob: *He* is getting *mugged*! Gilbert Huph: Well l...
Frodo: I can't do this, Sam. Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want...
Charlie Kaufman: There was this time in high school. I was watching you out the library window. You were talking to Sarah Marsh. Donald Kaufman: Oh, God. I was so in love with her. Charlie Kaufman: I know. And you were flirting with her. And she was ...
Celine: You know, I've been wondering lately. Do you know anyone who's in a happy relationship? Jesse: Uh, yeah, sure. I know happy couples. But I think they lie to each other. Celine: Hmf. Yeah. People can lead their life as a lie. My grandmother, s...
What is the real origin of my own anger? Is it the ego defending its territory, or is it something that has its source in the desire for the well-being of all? (73)
She’s a manner of speaking. Even the flowers don’t come back, or the green leaves. There are new flowers, new green leaves. There are other beautiful days. Nothing comes back, nothing repeats itself, because everything is real.
The real question is: How sturdy and solid is the floor our civilization stands on? How many lives with no prospects, shattered and senseless, can it bear the weight of before it cracks somewhere or other, splits at the joints?
In a book, even the real bastards can't hurt you. And you can never loose a friend you make in a book. When you get to a sad part, no one's there to see you cry. Or wonder why you don't cry when you should.
That's the thing about being the product of happily marries parents, You grow up thinking the fairy tale is real, and more than that, you think you're entitled to live it. So far, though, it wasn't working out as planned.
How can you measure progress if you don't know what it costs and who has paid for it? How can the "market" put a price on things - food, clothes, electricity, running water - when it doesn't take into account the REAL cost of production?
If you believe the Bible is true, you ought to know that demons are real. The Bible is filled with references of evil and demons, and Christ repeatedly cast out demons, so I believe the universe is much more complex and mysterious than it may appear ...
[The book, Anna Karenina, is] a mirror held up to the real, grimy, quotidian interactions of married life, of which romance is little more than a passing mood: marriage, that slippery social contract that, if it works at all, depends more on indulgen...
Real self-worth comes from mastery, from getting good at something. It doesn't matter what. Then you don't have to worry about empty compliments. You don't worry about what other people think. You have self-respect.
"Take it easy, Jewels," Sebastian said, trying to sound playful, but worry was written all over his face. "Why can't you ever call me by my real name?" "Well, at least I know you're coherent- you're back to asking your heap of questions."' Concealed
He is in no real danger. He merely suffers from a lethargy, a sickness that is common among the depressed. He has forgotten who he really is, but he will recover, for he used to know me, and all I have to do is cloud the mist that beclouds his vision...
Maybe reading was just a way to make her feel less alone, to keep her company. When you read something you are stopped, the moment is stayed, you can sometimes be there more fully than you can in your real life.
Republicans have succeeded with a social agenda that gets people to vote against their own interests while the Democrats are so elitist that they can't tap into the anger that's real.
Holy shit, he was harder that a rod of steel, and as his leg ground out a torturous rhythm between my thighs, I realized I was hotter than spring in Seattle. This was not a dream, this was real, and I had just fondled the boner of the Grim Reaper.
I’m related to one. Can you believe that? It was bad enough thinking I was paranoid, going crazy or maybe just cursed, but to find out Gods are real and that I’m related to one… life sucks lemons and I’ve run out of tequila and salt.
[Prince Stefan’s] family was of Eastern European descent, with some real royalty thrown in via a connection to Vlad the Impaler—who hung from a branch that Ian wouldn’t kept secret had the family tree been growing in his yard.
