Quotes About Dreams

There's a lot of blood, sweat, and guts between dreams and success.

People possessed of a lively imagination began to dream that they stood in all kinds of relations to the Evil One. There are cases in which imaginary witches surrendered themselves voluntarily to the Inquisition.

Nachts, wenn das Pendel der Liebe schwingt zwischen Immer und Nie, stößt dein Wort zu den Monden des Herzens und dein gewitterhaft blaues Aug reicht der Erde den Himmel. Aus fernem, aus traumgeschwärztem Hain weht uns an das Verhauchte, und das Versäumte geht um, groß wie die Schemen der Zukunft. Was sich nun senkt und hebt, gilt dem zuinnerst Vergrabnen: blind wie der Blick, den wir tauschen, küßt es die Zeit auf den Mund.

Desde la lejana floresta, de soñar ennegrecida, nos llega lo exhalado, y lo extraviado ronda, grande como los espectros del futuro.

You are always looking for something to which you can attach your identity, your hopes and dreams, and your inner peace.

Our problem is that we tend to be unfaithful to his holy agenda and get kidnapped by our plans for us and our dreams for our lives. The trials in our lives exist not because he has forgotten us, but because he remembers us and is changing us by his grace. When you remember that, you can have joy in the middle of what is uncomfortable.

The grief of midlife is not simply that we all collect things to regret, that we all fear getting old, or that we all mourn the demise of our dreams. We mourn the fact that midlife exposes our idols' fundamental inability to deliver.

Now, allow yourself to consider the radical nature of what this passage says about the deepest motivations of the hearts of God's people. They have connected their deepest love, belief, joy, and faith to someone they have never seen, heard, or touched. They have staked the hopes and dreams of their lives to this invisible One. Their relationship to him is one of life-altering love. When they think of him, they experience joy, joy so deep that it cannot be expressed.

You are always looking for something to which you can attach your identity, your hopes and dreams, and your inner peace. Whatever controls the worship of your heart controls your choices, words, emotions, and actions.

What had happened was this. When still young, I had gotten the idea from somewhere that I might be able to write... Maybe the deadly notion came from liking to read so much. Maybe I was in love with the image of being a writer. Whatever. It had been a really bad idea. Because I couldn't write, at least not by the bluntly and frequently expressed standards of anyone in a position to offer any encouragement and feedback.

So many bright futures consigned to the ashes of the past.So many dreams lost in the madness that had engulfed us.Except for a few widely scattered shouts of joy,the survivors of the abyss sat hollow-eyed and silent, trying to comprehend a world without war.

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge—and has to content oneself with dreaming.

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.

Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you think; cultivate friendships; be happy.

What dreams we have and how they fly Like rosy clouds across the sky; Of wealth, of fame, of sure success, Of love that comes to cheer and bless; And how they whither, how they fade, The waning wealth, the jilting jade — The fame that for a moment gleams, Then flies forever, — dreams, ah — dreams!

Forever I had not known before Forever was so long a word. The slow stroke of the clock of time I had not heard. 'Tis hard to learn so late; It seems no sad heart really learns, But hopes and trusts and doubts and fears, And bleeds and burns. The night is not all dark, Nor is the day all it seems, But each may bring me this relief— My dreams and dreams. I had not known before That Never was so sad a word, So wrap me in forgetfulness— I have not heard.

They weren't exactly here and now. They were busy turning to some future, but what is the future when you are always feeding it money? Doesn't it get tiring to give so much away to a world that you'll never get to touch and see?

I was obsessed with being rich and famous.

I find myself combing the past these days, dreaming dreams without sleep, puzzling over my guys, the gay and the straight and the in-between. Somewhere in there is a horror of love, and to try to kill the beast in them, they take it out on us. Which is not to say I don't chastise myself for halving the world into us and them. I know that the good guys aren't all gay, or the bad all straight. That is what I am sifting for, to know what a man is finally, no matter the tribe or gender.

The imagination was the only country where a man could truly breathe free.

You need only to have glimpsed it once to know there's a window out of all this black and sleepless night. Then you must use it to hope on. Key to the dream country where all your people are whole again, and the gunboats can't reach you, and the Empire of Hate is rubble. You and your secret dream of freedom are the tidal wave. Keep watch, every night if you have to. As for sleeping, you can sleep when you're dead.

And Chris remembers: what they used to talk about was desire. Impossible, longing dreams. Delirious, aching confusion. That was the vital element they lived off … because it was the one thing that mattered. Not things, or achievements, or politics, or fracking or anything else: just sweet naked blameless unending desire.

To speak a language that was as intimate and free as certain dreams, saying darkly, thrillingly, My cock inside of you. Your come in my mouth ... He focused on the boy's slim, tight hips; with the tip of his tongue he tasted an asshole's bitter, forbidden mystery.

There are a few scattered moments in one's life when everything seems possible.