Quotes About Dreamer

And who knows what our neighbor is, after all? A saint, an angel unawares, a genius, an artist, a devil, a dreamer of great dreams, or an abscess in the form of a man? Who knows? We never really see each other, and that is at once the mystery and the terror of living.

And you come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you.

The dreamer in her Had fallen in love with me and she did not know it. That moment the dreamer in me Fell in love with her and I knew it

I think a lot of my fans are anxious for more than just my singles. They know I'm a dreamer. They know I'm someone who is real spiritual. I love to have fun, and I always have fun songs - songs you can party to. But I also always have songs you can live to, that when you're depressed, it may lift your spirits up.

It is the possibility that keeps me going, and though you may call me a dreamer or a fool or any other thing, I believe that anything is possible.

Although you may call me a dreamer, a fool, or any other thing, I believe that anything is possible.

Allison Nelson, twenty-nine years old and engaged, a socialite, searching for answers she needed to know, and Noah Calhoun, the dreamer, thirty-one, visited by the ghost that had come to dominate his life.

I think of myself not just as a dreamer, but as a dream chaser.

I'm still a bit of a romantic and an idealist and hopelessly naive.

She is sensitive. She does not see the world as it is. She's a bit up in the clouds. She cannot fit in.

I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation.

A rebel instead of a dreamer. Daddy had given Loreda words; it was actions that mattered. She knew that now. Leaving. Staying. Fighting. Or walking away.

rebel instead of a dreamer. Daddy had given Loreda words; it was actions that mattered. She knew that now. Leaving. Staying. Fighting. Or walking away.

Without the ontological assumption which goes with it, what is called science, is nothing but the dreamer's well-ordered dream.

He wasn't an alchemist, or a hero. He was a librarian, and a dreamer. He was a reader, and the unsung expert on a long-lost city no one cared a thing about.

It was a different life out here, but make no mistake: Lazlo was every bit the dreamer he had always been, if not more. He might have left his books, but he carried all his stories with him.

The way he looked at her, she felt like some kind of miracle, as though his dreamer's eyes cast her in their glow of wonder.

Skathis might have been an artist, but he'd been a vile one. Strange the dreamer was an artist, too, and he was the antidote to vile.

Strange the dreamer," they called him. "That dreamer, Strange.

like any dreamer, at the mercy of her unconscious. When she fell asleep, she was no sorceress or dark enthraller, but just a sleeping girl with no control over the terrors within her.

and when the Tizerkane warriors rode out of the Great Library and out of Zosma, Strange the dreamer went with them.

It was impossible of course, but when did that ever stop any dreamer from dreaming?

That is to say, he had a dream-- a guiding and abiding one, so much a part of him it was like a second soul inside his skin. The landscape of his mind was all given over to it. It was a deep and ravishing landscape, and a daring and magnificent dream. Too daring, too magnificent for the likes of him. He knew that, but the dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around.

It was a deep and ravishing landscape, and a daring and magnificent dream. Too daring, too magnificent for the likes of him. He knew that, but the dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around.