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We never stop seeing, perhaps this is why we dream.
In bed my real love has always been the sleep that rescued me by allowing me to dream.
One of the characteristics of the dream is that nothing surprises us in it. With no regret, we agree to live in it with strangers, completely cut off from our habits and friends.
How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares, were there any danger of their becoming true.
In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day’s caravan.
When we can’t dream any longer we die.
Children of the night, of indigestion bred.
A world of the dead in the hues of life.
Dreams full oft are found of a real events the forms and shadows.
We have in dreams no true perception of time a strange property of mind! For if such be also its property when entered into the eternal disembodied state, time will appear to us eternity! The relations of space as well as of time are also annihilated, so that while almost eternity is compressed into a moment, infinite space is traversed more swiftly than by real thought.
We are somewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps, and the slumber of the body seems to be but the walking of the soul. It is the litigation of sense, but the liberty of reason; and our walking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps.
As dreams are the fancies of those that sleep, so fancies are but the dreams of those awake.
Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which, if it were available in walking, would make every man a Dante or a Shakespeare.
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls.
Nothing so much convinces me of the boundlessness of the human mind as its operations in dreaming.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ( 1749-1832)
In bed my real love has always been the sleep that rescued me by allowing me to dream.
Luigi Pirandello (1867-1936) Italian author, playwright.
One of the characteristics of the dream is that nothing surprises us in it. With no regret, we agree to live in it with strangers, completely cut off from our habits and friends.
Jean Cocteau (1889-1963) French writer, film director.
How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares, were there any danger of their becoming true.
Logan Pearsall Smith (1865-1946) Anglo-American essayist.
In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day’s caravan.
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) Indian author, philosopher.
When we can’t dream any longer we die.
Emma Goldman (1869-1940) American anarchist.
Children of the night, of indigestion bred.
Churchill.
A world of the dead in the hues of life.
Mrs. Hemans.
Dreams full oft are found of a real events the forms and shadows.
Joanna Baillie.
We have in dreams no true perception of time a strange property of mind! For if such be also its property when entered into the eternal disembodied state, time will appear to us eternity! The relations of space as well as of time are also annihilated, so that while almost eternity is compressed into a moment, infinite space is traversed more swiftly than by real thought.
Winslow.
We are somewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps, and the slumber of the body seems to be but the walking of the soul. It is the litigation of sense, but the liberty of reason; and our walking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps.
Sir. J.Browne.
As dreams are the fancies of those that sleep, so fancies are but the dreams of those awake.
Blount.
Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which, if it were available in walking, would make every man a Dante or a Shakespeare.
Hedge.
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls.
Shakespeare.
Nothing so much convinces me of the boundlessness of the human mind as its operations in dreaming.
Clulow.
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