Quotes About Dream

Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen. - 10 January 1953

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.

My dream was one day ordering a drink and finding out it tasted wonderful.

to learn that while you dream and believe in Utopia, you will scratch & scrabble for your daily bread in your home town and be damn glad if there's butter on it

You must create the right kind of dream, the sober, adult kind of magic: illusion born from disillusion.

New York was bad enough. By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream.

Dla cz?owieka siedz?cego pod szklanym kloszem, znieczulonego na wszystko, zatrzymanego w rozwoju jak embrion w spirytusie, ca?e ?ycie jest jednym wielkim, z?ym snem. Z?y sen! Pami?tam ka?d? jego chwil?.

You are a dream. I hope I never meet you.

We'll take up where we left off, Esther', she had said, with her sweet martyr's smile. 'We'll act as if all this were a bad dream.' A bad dream. To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream. A bad dream. I remembered everything. ... Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.

Para a pessoa dentro da redoma de vidro, vazia e imóvel como um bebê morto, o mundo inteiro é um sonho ruim.

Një ëndërr e keqe. Për njeriun që gjendet brenda këmbanës së qelqtë, i zbrazët dhe i bllokuar si një foshnjë e vdekur, vetë bota është një ëndërr e keqe.

My dream was someday ordering a drink and finding out it tasted wonderful.

A bad dream. To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. A bad dream. I remembered everything.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream... I remembered everything... Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them. But they were a part of me. They were my landscape.

I am learning how to compromise the wild dream ideals and the necessary realities without such screaming pain.

As long as men have ideals, as long as they are vulnerable, there is this power to create a dream for them.

Rooms.Every room a world. To be god: to be every life before we die: a dream to drive men mad. But to be one person, one woman- to live, suffer, bear children and learn others lives and make them into print worlds spinning like planets in the minds of other men.

Eager always still for the promising future which, even if twenty years are gone, is not the final word, nor the stiffening of old uncreative age. Always the promise, the hope, the dream, amid whatever poverty, war, disease and adversity – always persists the credulous human vision, of something better than that which is.

It's a dream. We will work toward it. It would also help getting a job in the states if I'd a novel published. Begin it this summer. Outline: intelligent woman, fight, triumph: toleration of conflict, etc. Make complex and rich and vivid. Use letters to Sassoon, etc. I'm getting excited. Make it tense & tough, and for god's sake, not sentimental.

Among petals pale as death And leaves steadfast in shape They sleep on, mouth to mouth. A white mist is going up. The small green nostrils breathe, And they turn in their sleep. Ousted from that warm bed We are a dream they dream. Their eyelids keep the shade. No harm can come to them. We cast our skins and slide Into another time.

The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying.

Sovegna vos. Here are the years that walk between, bearing Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing White light folded, sheathed about her, folded. The new years walk, restoring Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem The time. Redeem The unread vision in the higher dream While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

You have gone through life in sleep, Never woken to the nightmare. I tell you, life would be unendurable If you were wide awake.