Quotes About Dreams

I could see her get all nervous but she was also excited. Nightmares have that quality, don't they?

We both thrive in the late hours, appreciate its sad taste and never get in the way of each other's dreams, even though Lude just wants more money, better parties and prettier girls and I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real.

I've got to stop blinking in the face of my fear. I must hear what I scream. I must remember what I dream.

I lost sight of those dreams.

A KEY WORD*** Imagined

She gathered the books like clouds and words poured down like rain.

His eyes did not do anything that shock normally describes. No snapping, no slapping, no jolt. Those things happen when you wake from a bad dream, not when you wake into one.

From a Himmel Street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

No snapping, slapping, no jolt. Those things happen when you wake from a bad dream, not when you wake into one.

Sometimes, I imagined how everything appeared above those clouds, knowing without question that the sun was blond, and the endless atmosphere was a giant blue eye.

She slept a lot and didn't dream, and on most occasions she was sorry to wake up. Everything disappeared when she was asleep.

and on most occasions she was sorry to wake up. Everything disappeared when she was asleep.

Chapter One: It was quite fitting that the entire town was sleeping when the dream carrier was born...

Ella era una ladrona de libros. Él asaltaba el cielo.

I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor.

Rudy Steiner slept. Mama and Papa slept. Frau Holtzapfel, Frau Diller. Tommy Müller. All sleeping. All dying.

They accumulated, hour by hour, like sweet and sour dreams, waiting to happen.

Dormía mucho, sin sueños, y casi siempre se arrepentía de despertarse. Dormida, todo desaparecía.

Believe in your dreams and they may come true. Believe in yourself and they will surely come true.

That's what happens when you personify hopes and dreams in one person. He becomes nothing more than a literary device.

Sex is hard to write about because you lose the universal and succumb to the particular. We all have our different favorites. Good sex is impossible to write about. Lawrence and Updike have given it their all, and the result is still uneasy and unsure. It may be that good sex is something fiction just can't do--like dreams. Most of the sex in my novels is absolutely disastrous. Sex can be funny, but not very sexy.

Everybody dreams about being harmed. It's easy. Much tougher to recover from the dream of harming…

They are quite incapable of coming up with anything even remotely as terrible as what I do all day—and they've stopped trying. Now I just dream

No person has the right to rain on your dreams.