Quotes About Dreams

This place is like some cosmic dream crusher. All you can get out of a place like this is a creepy little tingle that lets you know your kid is never going to be anything more than a customer-that the whole world is being turned into casino.

But if you accept dreams, you also have to accept nightmares, and I know nightmares are bad things. And if dreams are so special, why is it that no person or company has ever tried to make a drug that leads to better dreaming? Sleeping pills, yes, but dreaming pills? Have scientists even asked that question?

Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know.

Thus upon mine restful couch I lie, Bathed with the dews of night, unvisited By dreams--ah me!--for in the place of sleep Stands Fear as my familiar, and repels The soft repose that would mine eyelids seal.

Our mere anticipations of life outrun its realities.

The trouble with you and me, is that we don't live in the real world. We dream of fantastic things that may never happen.

Qué tontas somos las mujeres! Siempre lo he pensado. Supongo que ahora dormiré con su retrato debajo de la almohada y soñaré toda la noche con él. Es terrible ver que una no es fiel a sus principio.

Quién puede afirmar que aquel niño no podría haberse convertido en un gran músico o en el descubridor de la vacuna contra el cáncer? O algo menos melodramático: podría convertirse en una persona feliz y normal...

The girl started. 'I—I don't know. I shall never forget it. I dream of it.

It's—it's so lovely to think of things—and then for them really to happen!" cried Tuppence enthusiastically.

Había días en que las pesadillas lo perseguían, y por la mañana se levantaba y no recordaba nada. Ya había aprendido que un sueño que se olvida por la mañana no desaparece, se esconde y escarba en secreto, y que hay sueños olvidados que salen a la superficie en mitad del día.

At the end of the small hours: life flat on its face, miscarried dreams and nowhere to put them, the river of life listless in its hopeless bed, not rising or falling, unsure of its flow, lamentably empty, the heavy impartial shadow of boredom creeping over the quality of all things, the air stagnant, unbroken by the brightness of a single bird.

There are a whole lot of things whose names I do not know and I'd like to tell you about them in the sky your hair solemnly draws away kinds of rain one no longer sees nuts Saint Elmo's fire sun lames whispered nights cathedrals too which are the carcasses of large gnawed horses spat by the sea from far away but still worshiped by people a whole lot of forgotten things a whole lot of dreamed things

By not asking too much, you can believe in almost anything..like..a starry night in the mountains, or even the existence of fate.

There's this magical sense of possibility that stretches like a bridge between June and August. A sense that anything can happen.

Someplace that feels impossible - as impossible as time travel.

It's not easy in this phosphorescent gloom telling waking dreams apart anyhow.

I visualize myself winning the Olympic Pentathlon, inventing a phone that can be controlled by brain waves, or doing the laundry. I do not actually DO these things, but I see myself doing them, and that is almost MORE satisfying, because I am also lying down.

We must acknowledge that we are the dreams of our ancestors and that our fight will require a long view and the ability to bounce back from one painful setback after another.

I can give myself to her In her dreams Whispering her own poems In her ear as she sleeps beside me.

After twenty years of living the barren life, I want to believe that now all of my patient dreams will at last be realized

They lived their lives as if their sights were set on the clouds beyond the hill they were climbing.

I had slept like a log, and I couldn't remember anything frightening from my dreams. This seemed so strange to me that I asked my brother how it could have come about. "If you shut your eyes to a frightening sight, you end up being frightened. If you look at everything straight on, there is nothing to be afraid of." Looking back on that excursion now, I realize that it must have been horrifying for my brother too. It had been an expedition to conquer fear.

Too much FANTASY loses REALITY, too much HOPE may seem somehow EMPTY.