For a moment I had a strange intuition that just this, and in a real, profound sense, is life; and perhaps happiness even - love with a mixture of sadness, reverence, and silent knowledge.

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The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn't real. I know that, and I also know that if I'm careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.

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There is a healthful hardiness about real dignity that never dreads contact and communion with others however humble.

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If we lose our hope, that's our real disaster! — Dalai Lama

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In a very real sense we have two minds, one that thinks and one that feels. ― Daniel Goleman

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Never back down from a real challenge. They give the best lessons in life.

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Reading is everything. Reading makes me feel like I've accomplished something, learned something, become a better person. Reading makes me smarter. Reading gives me something to talk about later on. Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit disorder medicates itself. Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it's a way of making contact with someone else's imagination after a day that's all too real. Reading is grist. Reading is bliss.

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Our real journey in life is interior.

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The only real experience that counts, is your own.

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Real intelligence must be fiercely capable of investigating every aspect of existence, including the very process of knowledge that we call science .

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