“What's life except for a palpable illusion?”
“That's how it will be, except that in reality, both today and later, one will stand there with a palpable body and a real head, a real forehead, that is, for smiting on with one's hand.”
“So, what if everything in life is an illusion? Well, choose your illusion; Don't let it choose you.”
“If life is merely an illusion what can her truth be? ”
“I didn't know then what I wanted, but the ache for it was palpable.”
“What an illusion, she thinks, the idea of an ordered, ordinary life.”