Quotes About Dreams

I'm very ambitious. I live in reality but I have dreams I want to fulfill - I want to be a director, and I've already started my own production company. But I also have a measure of success that I keep to myself. It's something very personal to me.

Our world exists only to hold up this other world, this ideal world. It's the world of our dreams, our desires. It's elaborate, it's heavy, and we carry it around with us everywhere. But we don't mind. The more that's up here, the better. Because up here is where we keep all that's best in us. The more that's up here, the richer our imagination becomes. . . . Products are the materials we use to build our world above the world.

I think movies are good for getting into dream states or exploring weird alternate states of thinking.

Il vento portò da lontano l'accenno di un canto primaverile, chissà dove, lucido e profondo si aprì un pezzetto di cielo. In questo azzurro smisurato, fra barlumi della vicina primavera piangevano burrasche invernali, si libravano sogni stellati. Timide, cupe e profonde piangevano le mie corde. Il vento portò da lontano le sue squillanti canzoni.

Absorbes mis pensamientos de manera tan íntima como para permitirme pensar en otra cosa –no sólo ocupas mi mente todo el día; te introduces en mi sueño. Te encuentro en cada sueño –y cuando despierto no puedo cerrar mis ojos otra vez por reflexionar sobre tu dulzura.

One place like another. That was true enough, he thought. Even the merchant seamen were the same. Every ship was the last. One more voyage, just enough pay and bounty saved, and it would be used to buy a little alehouse, a chandlery, a smallholding from some country squire. But it never seemed to happen, unless the man was thrown on the beach in peacetime, or rejected as a useless cripple. The sea always won in the end. The

I always wanted to be a designer. I read books on fashion from the age of 12.

Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.

They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.

Some less refined, beneath the moon's pale light Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night

I have outlasted all desire, My dreams and I have grown apart; My grief alone is left entire, The gleamings of an empty heart. The storms of ruthless dispensation Have struck my flowery garland numb, I live in lonely desolation And wonder when my end will come. Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted By tardy winter's whistling chill, A single leaf which has outlasted Its season will be trembling still.

My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?

Love is not a crime, denying it is. Having dreams is not a crime, not chasing them is. Making mistakes is not a crime, not learning from them is. Life is not a crime, not living it is.

Sounds incredible? Hell, it does. But perhaps we all need to believe something incredible once in a while.

Only the Dreams never die, because the dream is a birth into the unborn again, a commencing where we ended, a starting where we stopped to rest, a crossroad of eternity, a giving up of something to possess all things. The beginning of the real.

En una columna me apoyo, y te sueño. Mi mejilla, en contacto con el frío mármol, hiela mi corazón. Gruesas lágrimas caen de mis ojos. Soy feliz, pero lloro.

La mayoría de las mujeres forjan sueños equivocados del amor; su imaginación las lleva a célicas visiones, perjudiciales, en razón de lo exagerado. Es así, como, para muchas mujeres la vida se divide en dos mundos: el que imaginaron y el que viven.

Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies; In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of low replies.

My virgin sense of sound was steeped In the music of young streams; And roses through the casement peeped, And scented all my dreams.

Falling stars are high examples sent To warn, not lure. Gross fancy says they are Substantial meteors; but that is not so. They are the merest phantasies of Night, When she's asleep, and, dimly visited By past effects, she dreams of Lucifer Hurled out of Heaven.

Revenge is for dreams...never for reality.

If you can have everything at fifty that you wanted when you were fifteen, you're happy.

I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,With vassals and serfs at my side.

Then came upon a world in ruins an anxious youth. The children were drops of burning blood which had inundated the earth; they were born in the bosom of war, for war. For fifteen years they had dreamed of the snows of Moscow and of the sun of the Pyramids.