Salman Rushdie Quotes About Reality
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Memory has its own special kind. It selects, eliminates, alters, exaggerates, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no sane human being ever trusts someone else's version more than his own.
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Sometimes legends make reality, and become more useful than the facts.
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I do not need the idea of God to explain the world I live in.
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Most of what matters in your life takes place in your absence.
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I have been only the humblest jugglers-with-facts; and that, in a country where the truth is what it is instructed to be, reality quite literally ceases to exist, so that everything becomes possible except what we are told is the case; and maybe this was the difference between my Indian childhood and Pakistani adolescence--that in the first I was beset by an infinity of alternative realities, while in the second I was adrift, disoriented, amid an equally infinite number of falsenesses, unrealities and lies.
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Reality is a question of perspective.
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A man is sane only to the extent that he subscribes to a previously-agreed construction of reality.
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How to forgive the world for its beauty, which merely disguises its ugliness; for its gentleness, which merely cloaks its cruelty; for its illusion of continuity, seamlessly, as the night follows the day, so to speak- whereas in reality life is a series of brutal raptures, falling upon your defenseless hands, like the blows of a woodman's axe?
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[...] the inevitable triumph of illusion over reality that was the single most obvious truth about the history of the human race [...]
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I think it's a very important function of art to challenge accepted reality, especially when that reality is created by powerful interest groups.
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Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible.
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The acceptance that all that is solid has melted into the air, that reality and morality are not givens but imperfect human constructs, is the point from which fiction begins.
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