What we call reality is an agreement that people have arrived at to make life more livable.

Cloquet hated reality but realized it was still the only place to get a good steak.

I like reality. It tastes of bread.

What could possibly be more fantastic than reality?

We take our shape, it is true, within and against that cage of reality bequeathed us at our birth; and yet it is precisely through our dependence on this reality that we are most endlessly betrayed.

If it were possible to talk to the unborn, one could never explain to them how it feels to be alive, for life is washed in the speechless real.

You ride astride the imaginary in order to hunt down the real.

Everything is a dangerous drug except reality, which is unendurable.

What is actual is actual only for one time And only for one place.

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.