Quotes About Dream

I am an unabashed HBO fan. This is why being on 'Silicon Valley' is kind of like a dream.

Graduating business school, I had $150,000 of debt. An investment firm offered me a steady job, but it didn't feel right. It was 2007 in Silicon Valley, and I dreamed of starting an Internet company.

I have a freedom that's incredibly valuable. Obviously my freedom is far smaller in scale than people like Zemeckis and Spielberg have here. But it's comparable. I can dream up a project, develop it, make it, control it, release it.

It has been a dream to play for India and above that when you are rewarded for being the most valuable player, you feel even more blessed.

I value my stardom a lot. I always wanted to become an actress and have loved every minute of it.

Bruce Springsteen wrote, "Elvis was as big as the whole country itself, as big as the whole dream. He embodied the essence of it.

All of us are somewhat clairvoyant; any future you can dream up, no matter how bizarre, retains the faint possibility of coming true. Kevin's skill was of dreaming up future events that were not just possible, but likely. He once said, Being a clairvoyant is ten percent guesswork and ninety percent probability mathematics.

Es curioso cómo el pensamiento incurre en lo inverosímil, cómo se lo permite momentáneamente, cómo fantasea o se hace supersticioso para descansar un rato o encontrar alivio, cómo es capaz de negar los hechos y hacer que retroceda el tiempo, aunque sea un instante. Cómo se parece al sueño.

Marriage is mostly a sucker bet Spoken by the woman with Dream Husband You just said Dream Husband might take a turn down the road and decide he wants to do a threesome or _ Me! Me! Peabody shot up a hand. Pick me! Eve & Peabody

It is a world completely rotten with wealth, power, senility, indifference, puritanism and mental hygiene, poverty and waste, technological futility and aimless violence, and yet I cannot help but feel it has about it something of the dawning of the universe. Perhaps because the entire world continues to dream of New York, even as New York dominates and exploits it.

It is useless to dream of revolution through content, useless to dream of a revelation through form, because the medium and the real are now in a single nebula whose truth is indecipherable.

Deep sleep is when you are asleep but not dreaming. Paradoxical sleep is the sleep in which you dream. So, only paradoxical thought is the thought in which you think. Is there, by analogy, a paradoxical state of death - a deep death and a death with dreams? It is evil that speaks evil: evil can ventriloquize.

These old Australians or Californians who spend all their days staring at the ocean without leaving their limousines, which they have turned into their panoramic childhood sites and their coffins, and who dream there, while awaiting the last wave, the one that will come from the depths of the ocean to engulf them.

The shores run together, the waters are parallel. The waters run together, the shores are parallel. A single leaf rustles, the others are silent. Who knows how this dream ends? He was so thin, so translucent, that he had to pass through the same place twice to leave a shadow. Living out a destiny of convenience the way others sail under a flag of convenience.

Thought can no longer keep itself in a critical equilibrium. It has to be spread eagled between violent nostalgia and violent anticipation. Of course we should dream of all women. There isn't one of them who wouldn't be offended if a man didn't dream of all of them through her.

We dream of passing through ourselves and of finding ourselves in the beyond: the day when your holographic double will be there in space, eventually moving and talking, you will have realized this miracle. Of course, it will no longer be a dream, so its charm will be lost.

Difference is itself a utopia: the idea that such pairs of terms can be split up is a dream – and the idea of subsequently reuniting them is another.

A child's reaction to this type of calamity is twofold and extreme. Not knowing how deeply, powerfully, life drops anchor into its vast sources of recuperation, he is bound to envisage, at once, the very worst; yet at the same time, because of his inability to imagine death, the worst remains totally unreal to him. Gerard went on repeating: Paul's dying; Paul's going to die' but he did not believe it. Paul's death would be part of the dream, a dream of snow, of journeying forever.

One of the characteristics of the dream is that nothing surprises us in it.

To be moved confuses the soul. One cannot convey these kinds of memories any more than the events of a dream... ...if I have complained too long, it is because my memory, no longer having any fixed abode, has to carry its luggage with it.

It was then that the Room, like a great ship, put out to sea. Higher the waves, wider the horizons, rarer, more perilous, the cargo. In their strange world of childhood, of action in inaction, as in the waking dream of opium eaters, to stay becalmed could be as dangerous as to advance at breakneck speed.

Elisabeth would slip a coat on over her nightdress and sink down in a dream, one elbow on the table, her hand propping her cheek, in a pose reminiscent of some allegorical female figure, symbolizing Science, or Agriculture, or the Seasons. Paul lolled beside her, sketchily attired. They ate silently, like strolling players taking a rest between performances.

Imaginer c'est choisir.

As for her, I'd forgotten her for the moment. So I shall never understand why, suddenly, bewilderingly, I was certain that everything I had imagined to be truth was false. False. Only the magic and the dream are true—all the rest's a lie. Let it go. Here is the secret. Here.