Quotes About Dreams

Everyone is asleep. They've all been asleep for years. You seemed ... awake.' Alex is whispering now. He closes his eyes, opens them again.'I'm tired of sleeping.

I felt a clot in my throat, something that wouldn't let language come. ... And there is also a dream I have over and over again, of opening up my mouth and finding my tongue studded with broken glass, so every word is a wound.

Beware of becoming too sure of your beliefs, because you run the risk of dissociation, or losing touch with parts of yourself. That is why the irrational and spontaneous are so precious to the Sufi. The 'irrational' circumnavigates the rational mind and by that allows the unconscious to manifest. The spontaneous and flexible person, who is not afraid of non-rational impulses, unorthodox behaviors, poetry, and dreams, in other words, the totality of being, acquires a unitive nature.

What makes dreams so fascinating to this discussion is that when a person is dreaming, he or she believes that the dream is real.

Our ship of dreams must be anchored, or else it will float away!

Does our definition of successful magickal workings only go as far as getting a new job, or being financially secure? On the other hand, do we dare to dream big dreams, to construct magickal operations that change the very destiny or our nation, or to leave something that will stand for 10,000 years?

If you are performing magick while asleep, you will only manifest more dreams.

Man is never alone. Acknowledged or unacknowledged, that which dreams through him is always there to support him from within.

Non est ad astra mollis e terris via. That's my philosophy. Its a quote from the past. "There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

How rarely boyhood loves to paint in glowing tints his future bright, a picture where no line is faint--whose very clouds are touch'd with light. And girlhood hails a world unknown and reads it in her own glad dreams, as lilies see themselves alone reflected in their azure streams. But rosy clouds that morning brings, ere noon may deepen into thunder--and life's dark stream has sterner things than silver lilies growing under.

You want to fly in jets, and I just want to fly" -Baby Carlyle

Sometime on the far side of never.

That long-ago day, sitting in this very spot on the dock, she had already begun to feel it: how hard it would be to inherit their parents' dreams. How suffocating to be so loved.

And Lydia herself—the reluctant center of their universe—every day, she held the world together. She absorbed her parents' dreams, quieting the reluctance that bubbled up within.

Everything she had dreamed for herself faded away, like fine mist on a breeze. She could not remember now why she thought it had all been possible.

He never completed the sentence, but in his imagined future, he floated away, untethered.

how hard it would be to inherit their parents' dreams. How suffocating to be so loved.

Lydia—so long enthralled by the dreams of others—could not yet imagine what that might be, but suddenly the universe glittered with possibilities.

To Lexie, the world seemed nearly perfect, and her fantasies were her real life with all the colors dialed up.

All her life she had heard her mother's heart Drumming one beat: doctor, doctor, doctor. She wanted this so much, Lydia knew, that she no longer needed to say it. It was always there. Lydia could not imagine another future, another life. It was like trying to imagine a world where the sun went around the moon, or where there was no such thing as air.

plugging her ears by filling her head with dreams.

she returns in sudden flashes. Like scraps of half-remembered dreams.

A cama cheira a sono da irmã: um odor caloroso e almiscarado e marcante - como o de um animal selvagem - que surgia apenas quando ela estava a dormir profundamente.

Still: she returns in sudden flashes. Like scraps of half-remembered dreams.