Quotes About Dream

Oh yes. To dram is the ultimate dare, is it not?

You can't lost what you never had.

Perpetual peace is a futile dream.

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?" (…) A sigh of longing. "To be honest, I wanted to be ruler of the entire world. Or the ruler's trophy wife.

For so long I'd wanted my life to be nothing more than a dream. Now, with emotions and sensations flooding me, I wanted this reality.

When you step toward a dream, you step away from a regret

Upon awakening in the morning, I wondered if the proceedings of the night before had been a dream. It was hard to believe that I was the world's heavyweight champion.

Always dream of the impossible, then try!

Press them continually with memory and dream and have them waste their Present there.

Gorgeous. Gorgeous home," my mother had said. Seeing it myself, I understood why she liked visiting here so much, and why she always seemed so disappointed when she returned home to ours. It was obvious, wasn't it? Who wouldn't have wanted to trade their lives for this dream?

At certain stations he would view the stream,As if he stood bewildered in a dream,Or that some power had chained him for a time,To feel a curse or meditate on crime.

It is never too late to be what we might have been.

The inn woke me up at six thirty. I dreamed that Sean Evans came back. We were having a barbecue, and he kept fighting with Orro over how to season the ribs.

It's this beautiful thing you can never reach. No matter what you do, you'll never touch it. You can only look and imagine what it would be like to hold it.

Cuál es la diferencia que existe entre yo y estas pequeñas y humildes criaturas? La araña teje su tela, no puede hacer otra cosa. Yo tejo mi conciencia, esta charlatana compulsiva, esta voz vaga y errabunda que pronto enmudecerá. Pero todo es un sueño. La realidad es demasiado dura.

It's not my fault! It can't make any difference, can it? You understand nothing. You are a destroyer, a black spiteful destroyer. You are the sort of person who goes around in a dream smashing things . . . You aren't really here at all.

He dreamt...he was a huge white egg floating in the sea of turquoise blue, and he was everything that there was.

Desperate for help, living his life now as a hideous dream, he had told nobody.

You daren't think, so you live in a dream.

It's all a dream, he thought, one goes through life in a dream, it's all too hard.

In the torpor of the afternoon the remembered road had the slightly menacing and elusive familiarity of a place in a dream when one thinks: I have been here, yet where is it and what is going to happen?

She had dreamed of a separated man, a sad austere secluded man, a man with a great sorrow, an ascetic. She was a moth that wanted to be burnt by a cold cold flame.

The dread enactment of the dream had turned into a waking horror.

She had loved him, she thought now, because, just at that time, she had had to have something else, someone else, to love, a private place for wounded love to go. But that had been, as she had then suspected and now knew, a device, a dream.