Quotes About Dream

IT IS TRUE, THAT WHICH I HAVE REVEALED TO YOU; THERE IS NO GOD, NO UNIVERSE, NO HUMAN RACE, NO EARTHLY LIFE, NO HEAVEN, NO HELL. IT IS ALL A DREAM—A GROTESQUE AND FOOLISH DREAM. NOTHING EXISTS BUT YOU. AND YOU ARE BUT A THOUGHT—A VAGRANT THOUGHT, A USELESS THOUGHT, A HOMELESS THOUGHT, WANDERING FORLORN AMONG THE EMPTY ETERNITIES!

All that evening I sat by my fire at the Warwick Arms, steeped in a dream of the olden time, while the rain beat upon the windows, and the wind roared about the eaves and corners.

Yes, she was a poem, she was a dream, she was a spirit...

It seemed to him that life was but a trouble at best, and he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record he could be willing to go, and be done with it all.

Rien n'existe. Tout n'est que rêve. Dieu, l'humanité, le soleil, la lune, la nature des étoiles. Un rêve, un simple rêve. Rien n'existe. Il n'y a que le vide. Et vous... Et vous n'êtes même pas vous. Vous n'avez ni corps, ni sang, ni os, vous n'êtes qu'une pensée.

I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. It's probably not even real.

Whenever I felt particularly bad I'd instantly cling to a favorite daydream, one I was willing to revisit constantly, a pretty vivid one too . . .

with me losing myself in such a dream, over and over again too . . .

I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real.

One eye open. One still in a dream

It was a nice dream, and an impossible one.

Still, I walk on, through a dream that takes me through these pages. I

Everything about this evening is both exquisite and bewildering and I can't decide if I want to go on with this dream or run back down the yellow-lit rock to the stable. But the stable door is closed.

I don't write stories for you, signora. Not for Italians. For the others. I write them for the outsiders. The ones like me. The ones who long to wander over the old stones, watch the light. Those who, even for a while, want to be in the Italy they dream of.

The dream didn't leave, people just don't know a nightmare when they right in the middle of one.

People stupid. The dream didn't leave, people just don't know a nightmare when they right in the middle of one.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world is no longer a dream.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

Martin Luther King Jr.

The difference between a dreamer and a visionary is that a dreamer has his eyes closed and a visionary has his eyes open

Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: - 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.

I've looked over, and I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land. So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream.

I have a dream, that one day on the red hills of Georgia...