Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Phantasmagorical. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Phantasmagorical Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Selina A. Mahmood,Max Beckmann,Nancy Garden,Albert Hofmann,William Wordsworth for you to enjoy and share.
A chord that becomes a melodious delusion,
In polar discrepancy from blue to yellow painted,
In yellow I existed, with digoxin's deadly illusion,
Like Van Gogh's stars in a bright night untainted.
The metaphysics of substance. The strange feeling which comes over us when we sense: this is skin - this is bone - all in a single vision that is completely unearthly. The dreaminess of our existence mixed at the same time with the indescribably sweet illusion of reality.
Real, but sometimes beautiful.
In a dreamlike state, with eyes closed (I found the daylight too unpleasantly glaring), I perceived an uninterrupted stream of fantastic pictures, extraordinary shapes with intense, kaleidoscopic play of colors,
The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, An appetite; a feeling and a love that had no need of a remoter charm by thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Unreality was swirling all around her like the delirious miasmas
A happy entanglement of warm limbs and warmer love. A physical and psychological merging that conjured a kind of inner light, a bio-emotional phosphorescence that was overwhelming in its gorgeousness.
It is existentially, hyperbolically, quintessentially unknowable.
Pythagorean thought was dominated by mathematics, but it was also profoundly mystical.
Awkward approximations, dull stammerings which cannot convey my sense of exhilaration as I seem to burst impediments, to exceed bounds of the possible, to experience, in the ruins of the human, the birth of something utterly new.
Vortexy.
"Is that even a word?" I ask myself
"You're talking to yourself, so who the hell cares?" I reply
Hoorah, all things lycanthropic.
In a cabinet of natural history, we become sensible of a certain occult recognition and sympathy in regard to the most unwieldy and eccentric forms of beast, fish, and insect.
At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime
The Platonic world of ideas corresponds to Thinking and Sensation on the mystical level.
Astonishingly slimy and dangerous
Waking from a midnight dream of horror, one hastily turns on the light and lies quiescent, worshipping the chest of drawers, worshipping solidity, worshipping reality, worshipping the impersonal world which is a proof of some existence other than ours. That is what one wants to be sure of ...
There were in it metaphors as monstrous as orchids, and as subtle in color. The life of the senses was
described in the terms of mystical philosophy. One hardly knew at times whether one was reading the spiritual ecstasies of some medieval saint or the
morbid confessions of a modern sinner.
Mathematical solutions are selected by the subliminal self on the basis of "mathematical beauty," of the harmony of numbers and forms, of geometric elegance.
How pathetic it is to describe these things which can't truly be described.
Hallucinatory - that's just the way everyday life is, in Colombia. All the time, you say to yourself, did I just see that?
Beautiful. Jules once thought he'd understood what the word meant. He now believed it overused. Some word needed to be kept in reserve for the rare, the arresting, the surprising ... the magical. Or a new one invented.
I was thinking of the word Surrealistic ... I don't think it should be used exclusively with my photographs. The meaning is close but I think my tendencies are more toward the whimsical or absurd. Surrealism is more connected with morbidity. From that I am very far away.
Once in a while, we get the briefest of glimpses of the magnificent beauty that resides in this universe. Life which happens within incomprehensible tumult, occasionally transforms itself into a clear vision of pure ecstasy in a still transcendent moment.
By the combination of lines and colors, under the pretext of some motif taken from nature, I create symphonies and harmonies that represent nothing absolutely real in the ordinary sense of the word but are intended to give rise to thoughts as music does.
The 'squaring of the circle' is one of the many archetypal motifs which form the basic patterns of our dreams and fantasies. But it is distinguished by the fact that it is one of the most important of them from the functional point of view. Indeed, it could even be called the archetype of wholeness.
We love to chew the cud of a foregone vision; to collect the scattered rays of a brighter phantasm, or act over again, with firmer nerves, the sadder nocturnal tragedies.
This life of separateness may be compared to a dream, a phantasm, a bubble, a shadow, a drop of dew, a flash of lightning.
The psychedelic species of visual beauty is something we don't see in our furniture styles and our architecture. It seems to be coming in, literally, from another dimension, and yet it is undeniably moving. It's beautiful.
My face is shaped like a face, and my body like a body, but my thoughts are very unusual. Piano from the third floor. Daisies on a roof.
The mystic sees the ineffable, and the psychopathologist the unspeakable.
PHYSIOGNOMY, n. The art of determining the character of another by the resemblances and differences between his face and our own, which is the standard of excellence.
Life at times loses its sense of reality; it appears to us like a weird, optical illusion - a phantasmagoric bubble that will disappear at the slightest breath.
Any thing or behavior too complex to understand becomes a phenomenon that could be termed spiritual or magical.
When you work on something that combines both the spectacular and the relatable, the hyperreal and the real, it suddenly can become supernatural. The hypothetical and the theoretical can become literal.
The imagination of man is naturally sublime, delighted with whatever is remote and extraordinary, and running, without control, into the most distant parts of space and time in order to avoid the objects, which custom has rendered too familiar to it.
There is nothing truer than physiognomy, taken in connection with manner.
The unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable!
Too marvelous for words.
Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma or a hideous dream.
If [a photograph is] unbelievably real it becomes superreal or another kind of super real, better than real ... [it] also can be, I think, so heartfelt that you almost can get a pang of compassion for the thing.
If we examine a work of ordinary art, by means of a powerful microscope, all traces of resemblance to nature will disappear - but the closest scrutiny of the photogenic drawing discloses only a more absolute truth, a more perfect identity of aspect with the thing represented.
How strange a scene is this in which we are such shifting figures, pictures, shadows. The mystery of our existence
I have no faith in any attempted explanation of it. It is all a dark, unfathomed profound.
What's life except for a palpable illusion?
Realization that is beyond characteristic or designation is marvelous!
To the Suprematist the visual phenomena of the objective world are, in themselves, meaningless; the significant thing is feeling, as such, quite apart from the environment in which it is called forth.
Quite often, when I describe to people what I want, I'll say "overwhelming" - I want it to feel like it's phy
Tis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic, universal, wonderful, Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull
all-too-human powers
Life forms illogical patterns. It is haphazard and full of beauties which I try to catch as they fly by, for who knows whether any of them will ever return?
Everything is octopusied.
Let us create extraordinary words, on condition that they be put to the most ordinary use and that the entity they designate be made to exist in the same way as the most common object.
A forced contemplation of the heavens, crisp and angelic blue, a classic prelude to death.
If we take seriously the idea that all objects recede interminably into themselves, then human perception becomes just one among many ways that objects might relate. To put things at the center of a new metaphysics also requires us to admit that they do not exist just for us. The Computer
Paranormal. It rolls off the tongue with such poetry but it means something like, beyond normal. There is nothing paranormal about magic. Magic is the norm.
- Penny Sweeney
Magic All Around
Their monstrous forms represent the perverse defiance of normal categories and the confusion of identity associated with social and cosmic disorder.
Through some strange and powerful principle of mental chemistry which she has never divulged, nature wraps up in the impulse of strong desire, that something which recognizes no such word as impossible, and accepts no such reality as failure.
Private and primitive and a bit on the funky and frightening
The yawn of the void. A siren call for the unimaginative
As is known, it is in the realm of experience inaugurated by psychoanalysis that we may grasp along what imaginary lines the human organism, in the most intimate recesses of its being, manifests its capture in a symbolic dimension.
The schematicism by which our understanding deals with the phenomenal world ... is a skill so deeply hidden in the human soul that we shall hardly guess the secret trick that Nature here employs.
Syzygy, inexorable, pancreatic, phantasmagoria - anyone who can use those four words in one sentence will never have to do manual labor.
The language of [Catholic] mysticism - its repeated attempts to lay consciousness itself bare and speak all the intensely opposing yet interconnected parts of it that cannot be spoken.
When something real is about to happen to you, you go toward it with a transparent surface parallel to your own front that hums and bisects both your ears, making eyes very alert. The light bends toward chalky blue. Your skin aches. At last: something real.
All individual thought is dissolved in universal thought, as all form is dissolved in the universal plastic means of Abstract-Real painting.
I share this interest in the weird, strange, unusual, surreal.
One who transmuted things from formlessness and shapelessness into that-which-was-not-real, but without which the real would have no meaning
The Feminine force of life is often too wise for the Masculine's need to know: The mysterious energy of the evolving cosmos is always superior to our temporary scientific notions about it ...
nature, a phenomenon unrelated to humanity or even to life itself.
Cat: a soft indestructible automaton provided by nature to be kicked when things go wrong in the domestic circle.
The shadowy edge between normal and paranormal is more than ILLUSORY...
Exaggerated sunsets / splashed with rain, odd collisions / of roots, animals, seeds. / I didn't like a thing I saw, / so much effort to be strange.
Rejecting all organs of informationbut my senses, I rid myself of the Pyrrhonisms with which an indulgence in speculations hyperphysical and antiphysical so uselessly occupy and disquiet the mind.
It seemed natural; natural to the moment's peculiar reality that was sharply clear, but cut off from everything, immediate, but disconnected, like a bright island in a wall of fog, the heightened, unquestioning reality one feels when one is drunk.
Only by intertwining these two perspectives, the biological and the phenomenological, can we gain a fuller understanding of the immanent purposiveness of the organism and the deep continuity of life and mind.
While on that old grey stone I sat
Under the old wind-broken tree,
I knew that One is animate,
Mankind inanimate phantasy.
Splendiferous. That's your word. It's yellow with six legs and it's crawling up your arm.
From nowhere, a word appears: Mesozoic. He can see the word, he can hear the word, but he can't reach the word. He can't attach anything to it. This is happening too much lately, this dissolution of meaning, the entries on his cherished wordlists drifting off into space.
The reproduction of
what the senses perceive in nature through the veil of the soul.
It seems impossible, in fact, to judge the eye using any word other than seductive, since nothing is more attractive in the bodies of animals and men. But extreme seductiveness is probably at the boundary of horror.
grandiose paranoid schizophrenia.
Like something abstract deep within us-
Caught Beauty , held to light, now apes A good, now evil, thing the shifting sign And spectrum of archaic, psychic shapes.
Dreaming: the phantom of self-illusion emanating visions that change every night
Living: the phantom of universal self-illusion emanating the huge vision of the world that takes millenniums to change
Mystical state, madness, how it frightens people. How utterly crazy they become, remote, rude, peculiar, cruel, taunting, farouche as wild beasts who have smelled danger, the unthinkable.
I passed beyond the unreality of the thing represented, I entered crazily into the spectacle, into the image, taking into my arms what is dead, what is going to die ...
Possibility, infinity, beauty
none of those words were right. [ ... ] What he really wanted to say was: have you felt this? this phantom life streaking like a phosphorescent hound at the edges of your ruin?
There was something unspeakably
For Metafiction, in its ascendant and most important phases, was really nothing more than a single-order expansion of its own great theoretical nemisis, Realism: if realism called it like it saw it, Metafiction simply called it as it saw itself seeing itself see.
That is beautiful mysticism, it is a - "
"Please not to call it by any name," said Dorothea, putting out her hands entreatingly. "You will say it is Persian, or something geographical. It is my life. I have found it out and cannot part with it.
From time to time, from the endless flow of our mental imagery, there emerges unexpectedly something that, vague though it may be, seems to carry the promise of a form, a meaning, and, more important, an irresistible poetic charge.
In its wild state, the truth is fluid, slippery, vagrant, scrambled, promiscuous, kaleidoscopic, and beautiful.
A very receptive state of mind ... not unlike a sheet of film itself - seemingly inert, yet so sensitive that a fraction of a second's exposure conceives a life in it.
Picture yourself in a boat on a river With tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
I always hesitate to say that something is lifelike.
Life has its dimensions in the mysterious.
The spectacle in general, as the concrete inversion of life, is the autonomous movement of the non-living.
The phenomenon develops calmly, but it is invisible, unstoppable. One feels, one sees it born and grow steadily; and it is not in one's power to either hasten or slow it down.
Barnacles on the container ship of consciousness.
Every phenomenon of nature was a word, - the sign, symbol and pledge of a new, mysterious, inexpressible but all the more intimate union, participation and community of divine energies and ideas.