Quotes About Dreams

Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird, That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die life is a broken-winged bird that can not fly. Hold fast to dreams for when dreams go life is a barren field frozen with snow.

Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.

Having an honest relationship with time is no simple task. First, you have to open up to the possibility that time is your friend, there to help you, and that recording future plans in whatever way you see fit isn't a burden but rather something that strengthens your pursuit of your dreams.

Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dream. Water them with optimism and solutions and you will cultivate success. Always be on the lookout for ways to turn a problem into an opportunity for success. Always be on the lookout for ways to nurture your dream.

All I ever had before you was nightmares. But now I dream. Because of you.

It was then that stories of the dreaming disease began to circulate more widely. We heard from our customers of a girl who smelled of cooking oil, who remembered all the wars ever fought. She could recall and recount every death, every rape, every wound, every moment of suffering that had ever been inflicted by a member of her ancestral lineage. The only place she could find relief from this barrage of collective memory was in water.

Who loves the world? The sleeper does

It is often easier to make progress on mega-ambitious dreams. Since no one else is crazy enough to do it, you have little competition.

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a detective, like Encyclopedia Brown. Being a researcher is a way I've achieved that dream ... without the danger.

My bounce-around life had taught me that dreams were dangerous things -- they look solid in your mind, but you just try to reach for them. It's like gathering clouds.

Why did I keep hitching myself to dreams as big as that Montana sky? I was like Rooster Jim's chickens, with no way to fly that high.

Yeah, I feel sort of unfinished in New York, even though I spent so many years there. I think it's because I never got a chance to do any Broadway, or even off-Broadway. I would love to do that and I haven't given up on that.

Rüyalar insandan insana dola??rm??.

No tienes ni la menor idea de lo que ha significado para mi recoger todos los pedazos de mis sueños rotos" Shi-Mae

Yaren:¿Los unicornios tiene sueños?. No me refiero a los sueños que nos visitan cuando estamos dormidos, sino al tipo de sueño, de deseo... Por el cual luchas toda tu vida. Ese sin el cual tu existencia parece que no tiene sentido. ¿Has tenido alguna vez ese tipo de sueño? Victoria: Creo que sí Yaren: ¿se hizo realidad? Victoria: No. Se hizo pedazos.

los sueños, como todos sabemos, se sueñan dentro de nuestra cabeza, y se cumplen allí donde te encuentras. El truco es agarrarlos por la cola y no dejarlos ir, cueste lo que cueste. Por más bestias que se interpongan en tu camino.

Para eso sirven los sueños, ¿no? Para enseñarnos hasta donde podemos llegar.

Tenemos algo que los robots no tienen, al menos por el momento. Imaginación.

A su lado, la mujer que lo había devuelto a la vida lloraba de felicidad, porque sabía que la pesadilla había terminado y ella ya no tendría que vivir como una hija de la noche nunca más. Y sonreía, y soñaba con la nueva vida que los aguardaba al final de la travesía, en una bella finca en Italia, junto al mar, con mucho sol. Mucho sol.

The blond stuffs her hairbrush, which is now spun with gold and black silk (a miniature angel's nest) back into her backpack next to her anthology of English literature. The pages are so thin, they're like dead girls' dreams, translucent skin. On them it seems that everything that has ever been thought has been written.

I began to understand that dancing well had everything to do with believing you could. Like those dreams of flying- dipping gracefully through the air in your weightless body- if in your sleep, you stopped to think about it for more than half a second, you'd crash like a sack of dead ducks onto the roof of a church.

And, for the first few months after her surgeries, Holly had felt, horribly, as if she'd been turned into a machine, an unkillable robot. She had terrible dreams in which she was searching for her body parts on shelves lined with thousands of other body parts, floating in thousands of jars. In the dreams, Holly was convinced that her soul had been located in one of those body parts, and now her soul was trapped for eternity in formaldehyde and glass.

They were all around us that day. In the confusion of air. In our strange dreams. In the baggage we'd brought with us and would have to leave. In our fading animal memories: The humming gold of being, and ceasing to be. The exposed motor of eternity.