Quotes About Reverie

When Ideas float in our Mind, without any Reflection or Regard of the Understanding, it is that, which the French call Reverie; our Language has scarce a Name for it...

A certain amount of reverie is good, like a narcotic in discreet doses. It soothes the fever, sometimes high, of the brain at work, and produces in the mind a soft and fresh vapour, which corrects the too angular contours of pure thought, fills up the gaps and intervals here and there, binds them together, and blunts the sharp corners of ideas.

He does not need opium. He has the gift of reverie.

Reverie is when ideas float in our mind without reflection or regard of the understanding.

Reverie is the groundwork of creative imagination; it is the privilege of the artist that with him it is not as with other men an escape from reality, but the means by which he accedes to it.

If a man "whose talk is of oxen" should become an opium-eater, the probability is, that (if he is not too dull to dream at all)—he will dream about oxen.

with them and it brings me back to earth.

In the sway of a sudden reverie among the furrows or while untangling the mysteries of an early-morning dream. In the middle of a song on a warm Sunday night. Then it comes, always—the overseer's cry, the call to work, the shadow of the master, the reminder that she is only a human being for a tiny moment across the eternity of her servitude.

Nos embrujaba la belleza de la naturaleza, de la que el cautiverio nos privó durante tanto tiempo.

You're going to go on dreaming and imagining and making up stories about me as you walk along the street, and pretending that we're riding in a forest, or landing on an island —' 'No. I shall think of you ordering dinner, paying bills, doing the accounts, showing old ladies the relics —

Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning back again.

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers...

A poet builds his nest in the springtime tree of wild reverie, and ends up staying the year.

I'm not naughty. Its just nice to remember how from time to time.

His thinking was a dusk of doubt and selfmistrust lit up at moments by the lightnings of intuition, but lightnings of so clear a splendour that in those moments the world perished about his feet as if it had been fireconsumed: and thereafter his tongue grew heavy and he met the eyes of others with unanswering eyes for he felt that the spirit of beauty had folded him round like a mantle and that in revery at leas he had been acquainted with nobility.

he met the eyes of others with unanswering eyes, for he felt that the spirit of beauty had folded him round like a mantle and that in revery at least he had been acquainted with nobility.

To lose one's self in reverie, one must be either very happy, or very unhappy. Reverie is the child of extremes.

Indolence, of course, is an absolutely crucial part of the creative process: you do not find poets sitting in rows in cavernous word factories, staring at screens. They are rather to be found lolling on the sofa or strolling through the groves, nursing their melancholic temperaments and losing themselves in extended reveries.

A dream is nothing else but the echo of our conceits in the day

There is no drunkenness equal to that of remembering whispered words in the night.

I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.

If dreams are like movies, the memories are films about ghosts.

Lyric poets are always corrupting the young, making them choke in self-pity and indulge in reverie. Dirty sex and direspect for authority is what they have been whispering into their ears for ages.

...i breathe a reverie'd ether of beauty i drown in fantasy too deep i love on the edges of souls i sleep on the shores of night...