Gabriel Garcia Marquez Quotes

The eye altering, alters all.

I don't think I make much of a distinction between the 'real' and the 'fantastic.' They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I'm concerned.

Consensual reality is both fragile and elastic, and it heals like the skin of a bubble.

I am not a person who is about reality. I am about enhanced reality.

How was I supposed to know what's real and what's not? It feels like I'm the only one who doesn't know the difference.

The key to seeing the world's soul, and in the process wakening our own, is to get over the confusion by which we think that fact is real and imagination is illusion.

The more real you get, the more unreal everything else is.

You have to use fantasy to show different sides to reality. That's how it can bend.

Consensus reality seemed like a dull, dead-end street compared to the intense, mutable reality of visions or whatever they were - neurological misfires. I expected life to be full of sudden, inexplicable surprises. When these things didn't happen for a while, life seemed dull and painful.

Certain mystes aver that the real world has been constructed by the human mind, since our ways are governed by the artificial categories into which we place essentially undifferentiated things, things weaker than our words for them. We believe we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges.

If we agree that the world is not what it seems, then we have an important question: What shall we do about it?

Images are made palpable, ironed flat by technology and, in turn, dictate the seemingly real through the representative.

In some way there is no real life. It's always the story of your life that you're living.

Fantasy is often closer to reality than what most people accept as reality.

If you scrutinize reality closely enough, if in some way you really, really get to it, it becomes fantastic.

Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.

The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn,—not the material of my every-day existence--but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.

Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you're just a reflection of him?

Things seemed to go back and forth between reality and imagination--except that it was all reality.

Art exists because reality is neither real nor significant.

When you sleep, your dream world is as real to you as life, isn’t it?

That's how a thing starts out real then ends up just an idea.

If the experience of reality matters, than nothing is going to be better than dreaming. Because dreams feel real to everybody while they are happening. Some people have vivid imagination, some not so vivid, but everybody has vivid dreams.

I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.

A lot of what we're doing here deals with perception rather than truth. Many would argue that reality depends more on the former than the latter.