Quotes About Lucid

Plain as a nose in a man's face.

A poet dares to be just so clear and no clearer; he approaches lucid ground warily, like a mariner who is determined not to scrape his bottom on anything solid. A poet's pleasure is to withhold a little of his meaning, to intensify by mystification. He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.

propped up a little as her eyes adjusted. She hardly ever got to watch Roarke sleep. Most of the time he rose before she did. And sleep for her tended to be wandering in lucid, often disturbing dreams

Great wine requires a mad man to grow the vine, a wise man to watch over it, a lucid poet to make it, and a lover to drink it.

I have never seen a more lucid, more lonely, better balanced mad mind than mine.

being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language ... than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?

God gave to Adam and to his descendants the gift of intelligence, asking in return, not for blind praise, but for a lucid and joyful understanding of the nature of all things and their source.

It would turn out to be the last full day of her life, and for most of it she held her eyes still and open, neither sleeping nor waking, intermittently lucid and hallucinatory.

Love is a lucid dream you can move with mind and hand, I wish you'd walk towards me like my lucid dream.

To my great surprise — and slight annoyance — I found that Seth eloquently and lucidly articulated a view of reality that I had arrived at only after great effort and an extensive study of both paranormal phenomena and quantum physics. …" — Michael Talbot, author of The Holographic Universe

Salvation does not lie in the rituals and profession of faith, but in a lucid understanding of the meaning of one's life.

Some people like to bitch, Rose said. Bitching is OK. But for me, I choose a kind of joy -- a lucid compulsion -- a polemical kind of fuck-you-motherfucker joy.

Niko? I have decided to christen this little pool Le Cagot's Soul." "Oh?" "Yes. Because it is clear and pure and lucid." "And treacherous and dangerous?" "You know, Niko, I begin to suspect that you are a man of prose. It is a blemish on you." "No one's perfect." "Speak for yourself.

Devon glanced at him with mild surprise. "For a man who's seldom more than half sober, you've noticed a great deal." "Have I?" West looked perturbed. "Forgive me – I seem to have become accidentally lucid." He reached for his wineglass.

Right after you wake up, remain completely motionless and ask yourself, "What was just happening to me? Where was I? Who was I talking to? What was going on?" This is the key to remembering any dream. If you ask yourself, "What was I just dreaming?" you are not likely to get anywhere, because your dream will have seemed completely real as you went through it.

If you want your life to be a small part of eternity, to be lucid even in the heart of madness, love... Love with all your strength, love as though it is all you know how to do, love enough to make the gods themselves jealous... for it is in love that all ugliness reveals its beauty.

The change I observed is that at times Mother's thoughts are more lucid, whereas during these last months there were long periods when they seemed more or less fuzzy - which is really not to be wondered at. For a time thee was something overwrought in her, due to - at least so I imagine - the void around her and the feeling of loneliness.

Father, I am welling over with limpid joy! No sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love, upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!

Tonight in your dreams you must look at your hands.

Not all lucid dreams are useful but they all have a sense of wonder about them. If you must sleep through a third of your life, why should you sleep through your dreams, too?

The description of shock and grief hot so close to home: but sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over me in waves that left me gasping; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illuminated in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead

light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead.

Immortality is here and now, and is not a speculative something beyond the grave. It is a lucid state of consciousness in which the sensations of the body, the varying and unrestful states of mind, and the circumstances and events of life are seen to be of a fleeting and therefore of an illusory character.

Tão lúcida quando fala mas quando escreve fica tão sentimental, oh, a lua, o lago.