Be yourself and the right people will love you.
Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.
It doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time.
Real isn't how you are made... It's a thing that happens to you.
When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.
Be brave, be bold and above all be honest, some people will hate you and some will love you but they will all see the real you
The real you, the inner you, is pure, very pure. It's loving and it's magnanimous. It understands. It has patience. It is tolerant-it will wait forever while your ego trots all over everywhere trying to figure life out. It is pleasing to remember that back home there is a friend who's waiting for you to stop being silly, who's waiting to welcome you with open arms if and when you show up.
There is a spark of good in everybody, no matter how deeply it may be buried. It is the real you.
Just imagine becoming the way you used to be as a very young child, before you understood the meaning of any word, before opinions took over your mind. The real you is loving, joyful, and free. The real you is just like a flower, just like the wind, just like the ocean, just like the sun.
Impurity is a mere superimposition under which your real nature has become hidden. But the real you is already perfect, already strong.
People always tend to identify, instinctively, freedom with abandon.But the type of abandon that seeks personal gratification always gets you "tied up in a knot."Abandon instead your personal fears and desires...and you, the real you, will become freed, released from the bonds of your own mind.
Your personality - the real you inside - was the price of beauty.
What are you, Rose Hathaway? Are you real? You're a dream within a dream. I'm afraid touching you will make me wake up. You'll disappear.
And my fear of failure has been lifelong and deep. If you are what you do- and I think my parents may have accidentally given me this idea- and you do poorly, what then? It’s over; you’re wiped out. All those prophecies you heard in the dark have come true, and people can see the real you, see what a schmendrick you are, what a fraud.
A hundred years from now, people will look back on us and laugh. They'll say, 'You know what people used to believe? They believed in photons and electrons. Can you imagine anything so silly?' They'll have a good laugh, because by then there will be newer better fantasies... And meanwhile, you feel the way the boat moves? That's the sea. That's real. You smell the salt in the air? You feel the sunlight on your skin? That's all real. Life is wonderful. It's a gift to be alive, to see the sun and breathe the air. And there isn't really anything else.
But what's real? You can't find the truth. You just pick the lie you like best. As long as you know that everything's a lie, you can't hurt yourself.
Once you've recognized your own limits, you've raised yourself to a higher level of being, since you're closer to the real you.
I suppose he's making a real fashion statement, but this is high school. You're not supposed to be real. You're supposed to be enough like everyone else to get through and out into the waiting world.
The more boundless your vision, the more real you are.
You ever watch a football game and get totally into it? Why? It's not a real battle. It's just a game somebody made up. So how can you take it seriously? Or, you ever see a movie that made your heart about jump out of your chest? Or one that made you cry? Why? It wasn't real. You ever look at a photo of food that made your mouth water? Why? You can't eat the picture. . . . . . Same thing with water towers and God. I don't have to be a believer to be serious about my religion.
The closer you get to heaven, the less air there is, because when you get to heaven for real, you don't need to breathe anymore.
Real isn't how you are made. It's a thing that happens to you. Sometimes it hurts, but when you are Real you don't mind being hurt. It doesn't happen all at once. You become. Once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. Once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.
The tools are real. The viewer is real, you, the artist, is real and a part of everything you paint. You connect yourself to the viewer by sharing something that is inside of you that connects with something inside of him. All you have as your guide is that you know what moves you. All you have to do it with is a brush, some chemical and canvas, and technique.
Marilyn Monroe wasn't even her real name, Charles Manson isn't his real name, and now, I'm taking that to be my real name. But what's real? You can't find the truth, you just pick the lie you like the best.
Whatever you proclaim as your identity here in the material realm is also your drag. You are not your religion. You are not your skin color. You are not your gender, your politics, your career, or your marital status. You are none of the superficial things that this world deems important. The real you is the energy force that created the entire universe!
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