''All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."
Ah! What avails
the classic bent
And what the cultured word
Against the undoctored
And what is Art whereto we press
Through paint and prose and rhyme—
When Nature in her nakedness
Defeats us every time?
"The difference between reality and fiction? Fiction has to make sense."
"Welcome to the real world, she said to me.
Take a seat.
Take your life.
Plot it out in black and white."
— John Mayer, No Such Thing
"Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun-coloured houses. What could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the use of having powers, Doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them?"
"Life isn't bliss.
Life is just this:
You gotta go on living.
So one of us is living."
"Life. Loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it."
"Life is the crummiest book I ever read."
— Bad Religion, "Stranger than Fiction"
T-Rex: You know what happens in movies that doesn't happen nearly enough to me, here in the movie Reality, Featuring Me: The 13.7-Billion-Year-Long Motion Picture Event You Won't Want To Miss?
(Though Whether Or Not You Miss It Is Not Really Up To You, Actually)
"Starts out with a bang, exposing us to a high-octane explosion of thrills, chills, and rapidly expanding space"—The Filmic Spectator
Dromiceiomimus: "In the end, the 7 billion simultaneous characters were far too many for me to even begin to keep track of"—The Globe Review
T-Rex: Some very nice images pepper this film, though most are very similar shots of empty space"—Movie Reviewz 4 Youz
Utahraptor: Earlier there was a movie thing that you wished was in reality?
T-Rex: YES! Yes. Just—just let me do one more review.
"Some bold storytelling is on display here, although following a fully interconnected narrative through billions of years (and lives!) leads to a distinct sense of loss for the roads not taken."—Screenplay Magazine
Okay. Okay. I'm done now.
Utahraptor: Great. So what did you wa—
T-Rex: "Rated NC-17 for some impressively-varied scenes of explicit content, but haha, good luck finding them in all that empty space!!"
"Reality leaves a lot to the imagination."