A realist is a slave to reality. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
A realist is a slave to reality. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
A realist is a slave to reality. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
A realist is a slave to reality. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
A realist is a slave to reality. — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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A realist is a slave to reality.

— Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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More “Idealism” Quotes

Philosophic concepts are a form of sentiment. Conflicts between lofty ideas and vouchsafed values are endemic for any th — Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls
As long as the vision of heaven is always changing, the vision of earth will be exactly the same. No ideal will remain l — G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
Man’s own youth is the world’s youth; at least, he feels as if it were, and imagines that the earth’s granite substance — Nathaniel Hawthorne, The House of the Seven Gables
She had never had a friend like this, in her private room, combing her hair, listening to her, talking about silly nonse — Jessie Burton, The Muse
Sometimes it's only the young ones who are crazy enough to change the world. — Diana Peterfreund, Across a Star-Swept Sea
The more idealism proves futile, the more I respect idealists. — Marty Rubin
Poetry of World War I, at least in its lyrical mode, was itself the last flowering of the Age of Innocence that preceded — Philip Zaleski, The Fellowship: The Literary Lives of the Inklings: J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Owen Barfield, Charles Williams
The girl looks out the window, watching the gentle, familiar blue sky fade into darkness. The stars come out, slowly at — Amie Kaufman, This Shattered World
I lost something magical in the process of growing up – my disillusionment. — Bauvard, The Prince Of Plungers
Are we truly committed to the notion that ideals and values vary and alter in accordance with changing conditions? Shoul — Abraham Joshua Heschel, Insecurity of Freedom
In order to succeed we need leaders of inspired idealism, leaders to whom are granted great visions, who dream greatly a — Theodore Roosevelt
For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragm — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights and Other Stories