Grant an idea or belief to be true, what concrete difference will its being true make in anyone's actual life? What experiences may be different from those which would obtain if the belief were false? How will the truth be realized? What, in short, is the truth's cash-value in experiential terms? True ideas are those that we can assimilate, validate, corroborate, and verify. (Meaning of truth preface)

The truth of an idea is not a stagnant property inherent in it. Truth happens to an idea. It becomes true, is made true by events. (Meaning of truth preface)

To 'agree' in the widest sense with a reality can only mean to be guided either straight up to it or into its surroundings, or to be put in such working touch with it as to handle either it or something connected with it better than if we disagreed. Better either intellectually or practically! Any idea that helps us to deal ... (Meaning of truth preface)

The critic's trouble over this seems to come from his taking the word 'true' irrelatively, whereas the pragmatist always means 'true for him who experiences the workings.' "But is the object really true or not?"--the critic then seems to ask--as if the pragmatist were bound to throw in a whole ontology on top of his epistemology and tell us what realities indubitably exist. "One world at a time," would seem to be the right reply here. (Meaning of Truth [97] 263)

No matter whether any mind extant in the universe possess truth or not, what does the notion of truth signify ideally? What kind of things would true judgments be in case they existed? The answer which pragmatism offers is intended to cover the most complete truth that can be conceived of, 'absolute' truth if you like, as well as truth of the most relative and imperfect description ... It is not a theory about any sort of reality, or about what kind of knowledge is actually possible; it abstracts from particular terms altogether, and defines the nature of a possible relation between them. (Meaning of truth [100] 266)

The further limits of our being plunge, it seems to me, into an altogether other dimension of existence from the sensible and merely 'understandable' world. Name it the mystical region, or the supernatural region, whichever you choose. So far as our ideal impulses originate in this region (and most of them do originate in it, for we find them possessing us in a way for which we cannot articulately account), we belong to it in a more intimate sense than that in which we belong to the visible world, for we belong in the most intimate sense wherever our ideals belong. Yet the unseen region in question is not merely ideal, for it produces effects in this world. When we commune with it, work is actually done upon our finite personality, for we are turned into new men, and consequences in the way of conduct follow in the natural world upon our regenerative change. But that which produces effects within another reality must be termed a reality itself, so I feel as if we had no philosophic excuse for calling the unseen or mystical world unreal. (Varieties, 515)