Reality, n. The dream of a mad philosopher.

Reality is what we want it to be or what we do not want it to be, but it is not our wanting or our not wanting that makes it so.

Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.

Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.

Reality is that which when you stop believing in it, it doesn’t go away.

Reality is reality. It is the way things are, not the way you want them to be in your head.

Reality is that which when you stop believing in it, it doesn't go away.

You live 'till you die.

Reality, at first glance, is a simple thing: the television speaking to you now is real. Your body sunk into that chair in the approach to midnight, a clock ticking at the threshold of awareness. All the endless detail of a solid and material world surrounding you. These things exist. They can be measured with a yardstick, a voltammeter, a weighing scale. These things are real.

Definition of reality: the fastest possible version of all the details and degrees of freedom present.

The difference between reality and unreality is that reality has so little to recommend it.

What is meant by “reality”? It would seem to be something very erratic, very undependable — now to be found in a dusty road, now in a scrap of newspaper in the street, now a daffodil in the sun. It lights up a group in a room and stamps some casual saying. It overwhelms one walking home beneath the stars and makes the silent world more real than the world of speech — and then there it is again in an omnibus in the uproar of Piccadilly. Sometimes, too, it seems to dwell in shapes too far away for us to discern what their nature is. But whatever it touches, it fixes and makes permanent. That is what remains over when the skin of the day has been cast into the hedge; that is what is left of past time and of our loves and hates.

Reality must be always real. It is not with forms and names. That which underlies these is the reality. It underlies limitations, being itself limitless. It is not bound. It underlies unrealities, itself being real. Reality is that which is. It is as it is. It transcends speech. It is beyond the expressions `existence, non-existence', etc.

It’s not that I’ve been dishonest, it’s just that I loathe reality.