Quotes About Awakening

awakening. Listen, it's like the Death card in the Tarot. Movies always make it seem like the Death card is a bad thing—a literal death—but no, it's a metaphorical death, a figurative one, and that means transformation, transition, and maybe that's where we are now, as people, as humans.

I don't want to sleep,' my mother said. 'I want -- for God's sake, I want to wake up.

To you who have never died, may I say: Welcome to the world!

If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awoke — Aye, and what then? —S. T. Coleridge, Anima Poetae

You opened their eyes to another world, darling. They'll never forgive you for that.

Outside, somewhere near, the world would soon be waking. He had watched it wake from the window of this very room, day after day, stirring itself to another round of fruitless pursuits, and he'd known, known, that there was nothing left out there to excite him.

He became aware (was it just his dream life, denied its span in sleepless nights, spreading into wakefulness?) of another world, hovering beyond or behind the facade of reality.

What was below could remain below no longer. The Nightbreed were rising.

Welcome to the worst nightmare of all, reality!

was like one of those Negroes Dr. King spoke of in his letter from jail, so complacent and sleepy after years of oppression that they had adjusted to it and learned to sleep in it as their only bed.

That he had outwitted Nickel because he got along and kept out of trouble. In fact he had been ruined. He was like one of those Negroes Dr. King spoke of in his letter from jail, so complacent and sleepy after years of oppression that they h ad adjusted to it and learned to sleep in it as their only bed.

DAWN UNLOCKED THE MORNING IN INCREMENTS OF GRAY.

I wanted to wake the poor man. Suddenly I drew back the hand which was ready to shake him, frightened at the thing I was about to do. At that moment I became intensely conscious of the fact that no dream, no matter how horrible, could be as bad as the reality of the camp which surrounded us, and to which I was about to recall him.

Since I had always been especially sorry for people who suffered from fearful dreams or deliria, I wanted to wake the poor man. Suddenly I drew back the hand which was ready to shake him, frightened at the thing I was about to do. At that moment I became intensely conscious of the fact that no dream, no matter how horrible, could be as bad as the reality of the camp which surrounded us, and to which I was about to recall him.

Men, in general, misunderstand the meaning of death. When the alarm clock goes off in the morning and frightens us from our dreams, we regard this awakening as a terrifying intrusion upon our dream world and do not realize that the alarm arouses us to our real existence, our day world. Do we mortals not act similarly, being frightened when death comes? Do we not also misunderstand that death awakens us to the true reality of ourselves?

I remember one morning... getting up at dawn... there was such a sense of possibility! You know? That feeling? And... and I remember thinking to myself: 'So this is the beginning of happiness...' 'This is where it starts!' 'And, of course, there'll always be more.' Never occurred to me it wasn't the beginning, It was happiness. It was the moment...

Et iam prima novo spargebat lumine terras

By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting.

For I hear music, they were saying. Music wakes us. Music makes us see the hidden, join the broken. Look and listen.

I sleep among ravishing illusions and wake to their burden.

La vida es un sueño, despertar es lo que nos mata.

Nos han cortado, hemos caído. Nos hemos convertido en parte del insensible universo que duerme cuanto más despiertos estamos, y que arde, rojo, cuando nosotros yacemos dormidos. Hemos renunciado a nuestra sazón y ahora estamos tumbados, inertes, marchitos, y muy pronto seremos olvidados. Bernard

I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me.