Harold Pinter Quotes

Maybe I don't believe things myself, as well. Truth is such a transient thing.

There is no absolute point of view from which real and ideal can be finally separated and labelled.

All phenomena are real in some sense, unreal in some sense, meaningless in some sense, real and meaningless in some sense, unreal and meaningless in some sense, and real and unreal and meaningless in some sense.

Reality simply consists of different points of view.

The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.

Well, Art is Art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. Now you tell me what you know.

Reality is only a Rorschach ink-blot, you know.

There's no one thing that is true. They're all true.

Truth is, in fact, an elusive concept. It depends almost entirely on where you are standing at the time. It is a human instinct to confuse belief with truth.

Truth is an illusory notion.

What is my truth can not be your truth.

It's really rare in life that a situation is as black and white as we tend to paint it.

In my long experience, one thing I know is that truth is elusive.

Reality is a concept that depends largely upon where you point your face.

In my world, everything is possible and everything is relative.

Perhaps there is more sense in our nonsense and more nonsense in our 'sense' than we would care to believe.

the truth is often a mixed message

The distinction between sanity and insanity is narrower than a razor’s edge, sharper than a hound’s tooth, more agile than a mule deer. It is more elusive than the merest phantom. Perhaps it does not even exist; perhaps it is a phantom.

Everything is true and not true about everything. That’s one thing I’ve learned.

Given my own circumstances, I find that anything can turn out to belong nearly anywhere.

I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.

There is no such thing as an absolute truth to be discovered.

It is not possible to define. Nothing has ever been finally found out. Because there is nothing final to find out.

There may always be another reality to make fiction of the truth we think we've arrived at.

But my dear man, reality is only a Rorschach ink-blot, you know.