Quotes About Dreams

Hollywood was always best viewed at night. It could only hold its mystique in darkness. In sunlight the curtain comes up and the intrigue is gone, replaced by a sense of hidden danger. It was a place of takers and users, of broken sidewalks and dreams. You build a city in the desert, water it with false hopes and false idols, and eventually this is what happens. The desert reclaims it, turns it arid, leaves it barren. Human tumbleweeds drift across its streets, predators hide in the rocks.

The city shimmered out there like a million dreams, not all of them good.

Some people cashed in their dreams a dime on the dollar and some kept them close and as sacred as the night. I wasn't sure if I even had a dream left. I felt like I only had sins to confess.

Los Angeles was the kind of place where everybody was from somewhere else and nobody really dropped anchor. It was a transient place. People drawn by the dream, people running from the nightmare. Twelve million people and all of them ready to make a break for it if necessary. Figuratively, literally, metaphorically— any way you want to look at it— everybody in L.A. keeps a bag packed. Just in case.

The characteristic of vision. That great sweeping act of imagination which evoked a marvelous park, where children pressed against the fences, wondering at the extraordinary creatures, come alive from their storybooks. Real vision. The ability to see the future. The ability to marshal resources to make that future vision a reality.

You can make a boat, but you can't make the ocean. You can make an airplane, but you can't make the air. Your powers are much less than your dreams of reason would have you believe.

I feel like there's something terrible and wonderful and amazing that's just beyond my grasp. I have dreams about it. I do dream, by the way. It hovers over me at odd moments. And then it's gone. I feel like I'm always on the brink of something that never arrives. I want to either have it or be free of it.

Insomniacs know better than anyone how it would be to haunt a house.

He feels, as he sometimes does, as most people must, a presence in the room, what he can only think of as his and Rebecca's living ghosts, the amalgamation of their dreams and their breathing, their smells. He does not believe in ghosts, but he believes in...something. Something viable, something living, that's surprised when he wakes at this hour, that's neither glad nor sorry to see him awake but that recognizes the fact, because it has been interrupted in its nocturnal inchoate musings.

She pauses several treads from the bottom, listening, waiting; she is again possessed (it seems to be getting worse) by a dream-like feeling, as if she is standing in the wings, about to go onstage and perform in a play for which she is not appropriately dressed, and for which she has not adequately rehearsed.

What did Shakespeare say? Or little lives are rounded with a sleep.

All my life I could do anything. I could do anything, really. Except the one thing I wanted

He pours himself more coffee, draws out a final, really final, line on the tabletop. Maybe he's just not Ã¢â'¬Â¦ awake enough to be gifted. Maybe one day, why not today, he'll bust out of his lifelong drowse.

Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it?

Man kann davon überzeugt sein, sich etwas zu wünschen - vielleicht jahrelang - solang man weiß, dass der Wunsch unerfüllbar ist. Steht man aber plötzlich vor der Möglichkeit, dass der Wunschtraum Wirklichkeit wird, dann wünscht man sich nur noch eins: Man hätte es sich nie gewünscht.

You ask me what you will be there. But what are you here? What are you creatures of Fantastica? Dreams, poetic inventions, characters in a neverending story. Do you think you're real? Well yes, here in your world you are. But when you been through the Nothing, you won't be real anymore. You'll be unrecognizable. And you will be in another world. In that world, you Fantasticans won't be anything like yourselves. You will bring delusion and madness into the human world.

Todo o reino de Fantasia assenta-se sobre alicerces de sonhos esquecidos. A História Sem Fim (The whole kingdom of Fantasy sits upon foundations of forgotten dreams - Endless Story).

While progressing in this way, with a dirty street ahead of him and a clean one behind, he often had grand ideas. They were ideas that couldn't easily be put into words, though - ideas as hard to define as a half-remembered scent or a colour seen in a dream.

Es gibt Menschen, die können nie nach Phantasien kommen, und es gibt Menschen, die können es, aber sie bleiben für immer dort. Und dann gibt es noch einige, die gehen nach Phantasien und kehren wieder zurück. So wie du, Bastian. Und sie machen beide Welten gesund.

Sana ÅŸunu söyleyeyim Momo, hayatta en tehlikeli ÅŸey, gerçekleÅŸmiÅŸ hayallerdir. Hele benimki gibi olursa! Ar?k hayal edecek hiçbir ÅŸeyim kalmad?.

No sabes nada de Fantasía? Es el mundo de la fantasía humana. Toda parte de él, toda criatura, representa los sueños y las esperanzas de la humanidad. Por lo tanto, no tiene límites.

Sana ÅŸunu söyleyeyim Momo, hayatta en tehlikeli ÅŸey, gerçekleÅŸmiÅŸ hayallerdir.

You ask me what you will be there. But what are you here? What are you creatures of Fantastica? Dreams, poetic inventions, characters in a neverending story. Do you think you're real? Well yes, here in your world you are.

Hayal kurmak, suç iÅŸlemekten farks?zd?.