Quotes About Dreams

When they dreamed of turning iron and metal into gold, they called it alchemy. The much more far-fetched dream of turning bound sheafs of plain paper into fortunes, they call publishing

Betsy dreamed about going away from Deep Valley, but she didn't for a moment suspect that around a bend in her Winding Hall of Fate a journey was actually waiting.

Oh ! étrangeté des rêves éveillés où l'esprit s'envole dans un monde irréel et possible ! Rien n'y étonne ; rien n'y choque ; et la fantaisie débridée ne distingue plus le comique et le lúgubre.

I always wanted stories to be real, so I started writing my own.

Yeah," Nate said. "I guess it would be like that if I could go somewhere in a book. I always wanted stories to be real, so I started writing my own. That seemed to make it more real.

I kind of love it," Nate said, looking around. "It looks like the moisture farm that Luke Skywalker lives on.

and things that looked just like palaces even thought they probably weren't.

Day or two. Got a bunch of it from The West Wing. That was the only show I was never allowed to watch when I was a kid, so it's my favorite. I wonder who my dad will have as VP if he gets into the White House? I'm rooting for a cloud of bats. What about you, Stevie? You know him better than I do.

Listen to what is being preached today. Look at everyone around us. You've wondered why they suffer, why they seek happiness and never find it. If any man stopped and asked himself whether he's ever held a truly personal desire, he'd find the answer. He'd see that all his wishes, his efforts, his dreams, his ambitions are motivated by other men.

If any man stopped and asked himself whether he's ever held a truly personal desire, he'd find the answer. He'd see that all his wishes, his efforts, his dreams, his ambitions are motivated by other men. He's not really struggling even for material wealth, but for the second-hander's delusion—prestige. A stamp of approval, not his own.

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it's yours.

The self you have betrayed is your mind; self-esteem is reliance on one's power to think. The ego you seek, that essential 'you' which you cannot express or define, is not your emotions or inarticulate dreams, but your intellect, that judge of your supreme tribunal whom you've impeached in order to drift at the mercy of any stray shyster you describe as your 'feeling.

I always had a hankering for the security of impossible dreams.

Later, Nima told us that the son of one of his friends, a ten-year-old, had awakened his parents in horror telling them he had been having an "illegal dream." He had been dreaming that he was at the seaside with some men and women who were kissing, and he did not know what to do. He kept repeating to his parents that he was having illegal dreams.

Dreams,Mr.Nazari,are perfect ideals,complete in themselves.

V]alue your dreams but . . . be wary of them also, . . . look for integrity in unusual places.

Dreams, Mr Nyazi, are perfect ideals, complete in themselves. How can you impose them on a constantly changing, imperfect, incomplete reality?

Whoever we were—and it was not really important what religion we belonged to, whether we wished to wear the veil or not, whether we observed certain religious norms or not—we had become the figment of someone else's dreams.

Col senno di poi, sono contenta di non essermi resa conto di quanto fossi vulnerabile: ero come l'ambasciatore di un paese inesistente, venuta a reclamare, con la mia piccola collezione di libri e la mia sporta di sogni, un paese che credevo mi appartenesse.

Several months into the class, my girls and I discovered that almost every one of us had had at least one nightmare in some form or another in which we either had forgotten to wear our veil or had not worn it, and always in these dreams the dreamer was running, running away.

I left Tehran on June 24, 1997, for the green light that Gatsby once believed in.

Nema told us that the son of one of his friends, a 10-year-old, had a week and his parents in whore telling them he has been having an "illegal dream." He had been dreaming that he was at the seaside with some men and women who were kissing, and he did not know what to do. He kept repeating to his parents that he was having a legal dreams.

Dreams, Mr. Nyazi, are perfect ideals, complete in themselves. How can you impose them on a constantly changing, imperfect, incomplete reality? You would become a Humbert, destroying the object of your dream; or a Gatsby, destroying yourself.

The Glories of the Possible are Ours.