Jim Butcher Quotes

I have a fork and a spoon, but never a knife… as if I’m lacking manual skills or teeth. I have both, however. That’s why I’m not allowed a knife.

You bought me some forks. And knives. And spoons. Because you love me!

It took me a little while to remember how to use a fork. You know, we don't use forks in the penitentiary. You get a spoon.

A lot of people don't have much food on their table. But they got a lot of forks 'n knives. And they got to cut somethin'.

Forks and spoons have probably done more to reconcile people who cannot agree than guns and bombs ever did

Welcome to the Desert of the Real.

What we call a mind is nothing but a heap or collection of different perceptions, united together by certain relations and supposed, though falsely, to be endowed with a perfect simplicity and identity.

Look - I understand that an unexamined life is not worth living, but do you think I could someday have an unexamined lunch?

The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth--it is the truth which conceals that there is none. The simulacrum is true.

I don't think the world objectively exists the way we think it exists. There's a constant sort of storytelling process.

Free will and consciousness is an illusion, and the self is a complex of memes.

The most embarrassing part of the film is that the new problem posed by simulation is confused with its classical, Platonic treatment ... The Matrix is surely the kind of film about the matrix that the matrix would have been able to produce.

Do not take life's experiences too seriously. For in reality they are nothing but dream experiences. Play your part in life, but never forget that it is only a role.

A map is the dead body of where you've been. A map is the unborn baby of where you're going. There are no maps. Maps are pictures of what isn't.

All goals apart from the means are illusions; becoming is a denial of being.

Everything is illusion. Even that last sentence.

Once Chuang Chou dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was Chuang Chou. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakeable Chuang Chou. But he didn't know if he was Chuang Chou who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Chuang Chou.

To philosophize with open eyes is to philosophize in the dark. Only the blind can look straight at the sun.

What of Art? -It is a malady. --Love? -An Illusion. --Religion? -The fashionable substitute for Belief. --You are a sceptic. -Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith. --What are you? -To define is to limit.

REALITY, n. The dream of a mad philosopher. That which would remain in the cupel if one should assay a phantom. The nucleus of a vacuum.

The fact that man produces a concept "I" besides the totality of his mental and emotional experiences or perceptions does not prove that there must be any specific existence behind such a concept. We are succumbing to illusions produced by our self-created language, without reaching a better understanding of anything. Most of so-called philosophy is due to this kind of fallacy.

Slotted spoons don't hold much soup.

It's pretty much a fact that our entire universe is a mental construct. We don't actually deal with reality directly. We simply compose a picture of reality from what's going on in our retinas, in the timpani of our ears, and in our nerve endings.

Reality is only just a word.