Quotes About Dreams

Contact with humans is to be limited and on their territory only, you know that. And no one lives in this house except brothers and their shellans, if they have them. What about Butch? 463/1014 He's the sole exception. And he's only allowed because V dreams of him. Lover Eternal

Esa noche volvieron a sucederse los sueños. ¿Por qué ese recordar intenso de tantas cosas? ¿Por qué no simplemente la muerte y no esa música tierna del pasado?

Me haré a la idea de que te soñé –dijo-. Porque la verdad es que te conozco de vista desde hace mucho tiempo, pero me gustas más cuando te sueño. Entonces hago de ti lo que quiero. No como ahora que, como tú ves, no hemos podido hacer nada.

Me gustas más cuando te sueño... entonces hago de ti lo que quiero.

La ilusión? Eso cuesta caro.

Voy a dormir llevándome al sueño estos pensamientos. Dicen que los pensamientos de los sueños van derechito al Cielo. Ojalá que los míos alcancen esa altura.

After all, it's not every day a woman is given a kingdom of dreams.

Childhood romances always seem so real, so enduring, when we are separated from the object of our affection. But usually, when we return, we find that our dreams and memories quiet surpassed reality. -Lady Anne, Whitney's aunt

I can't sleep, because I'm afraid I'll start dreaming...

And so I invented a kingdom of dreams where I could accomplish great and daring deeds to make it happen.

Once I knew that I wanted to be an artist, I had made myself into one. I did not understand that wanting doesn't always lead to action. Many of the women had been raised without the sense that they could mold and shape their own lives, and so, wanting to be an artist (but without the ability to realize their wants) was, for some of them, only an idle fantasy, like wanting to go to the moon.

Writing is the voice that calls us from dreams, that peeks out of the corner of our eyes when we think no one is looking, the longing that breaks out hearts even when we think we should be happiest, and to which we cannot give a name.

I think of the great songs that have carried me along, songs I have sung with you, and for you, all over the world—songs that have carried all of us in rough seas as well as tranquil times, songs that have healed our hearts and kept us going. After all these years, I still believe that music can change the world, and as long as there is music, the dreams will never die.

Man hunts and fights. Woman contrives and dreams; she is the mother of fancy, of the gods.

Man hunts and struggles. Woman intrigues and dreams; she is the mother of fantasy, the mother of the gods. She has second sight, the wings that enable her to fly to the infinite of desire and the imagination… The gods are like men: they are born and they die on a woman's breast…

We are not accustomed to thinking that God's will for us and our own inner dreams can coincide.

Art is an act of the soul, not the intellect. When we are dealing with people's dreams - their visions, really - we are in the realm of the sacred. We are involved with forces and energies larger than our own. We are engaged in a sacred transaction of which we know only a little: the shadow, not the shape.

Spend most of your leisure time in contemplating your vision

I led the life of an intellectual up until a certain age. I remember Freud's 'Interpretation of Dreams' was a big favorite when I was 11. It sounded so interesting. And it really was!

There was somewhere, if you knew where to find it, some place where money could be made like drawing water from a well, some Big Rock Candy Mountain where life was effortless and rich and unrestricted and full of adventure and action, where something could be had for nothing.

We all hitched our wagons to the highest stars we could find.

She says, "But in contentment I still feelThe need of some imperishable bliss."Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreamsAnd our desires.

The book of moonlight is not written yet.

Torn by dreams,By the terrible incantations of defeatsAnd by the fear that defeats and dreamsare one.The whole race is a poet that writes downThe eccentric propositions of its fate.