#are

Orphans? Would you really? Adopt children?" "There are advantages. If they turn out badly, we can blame their natural parents. We can also choose our own assortment of ages and genders. We can even get them ready-grown, if we wish. ↗

— Loretta Chase

#humor #ismal #leila #love #orphan

Pitting your dream against someone else's is a fantastic way to get discouraged and depressed. ↗

— Jon Acuff

#dream #inspirational #dreams

Wake me up from this dream and tell me. Things aren't as bad as they seem. ↗

— Sara Quin

#our-trees #sara-quin #tegan-and-sara #tegan-quin #things-aren-t-as-bad-as-the-seem

All parents set out with expectations, hopes and dreams for their child. When a child is diagnosed with a health problem, these aspirations are altered. While one parent is hoping to see their child graduate from university, another is praying that they can live pain free ↗

— Sharon Dempsey

#parenting #dreams

He was a philosopher, if you know what that was.’ ‘A man who dreams of fewer things than there are in heaven and earth,’ said the Savage promptly. ‘Quite so… ↗

— Aldous Huxley

#philosophy #shakespeare #dreams

Każdy sen, ten czarowny i piękny, zbyt długo śniony zamienia się w koszmar. A z takiego budzimy się z krzykiem. ↗

— Andrzej Sapkowski

#human #nightmare #dreams

Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exists and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths. ↗

— Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

#nightmares #dreams

Weirdism is definitely the cornerstone of many an artist's career. ↗

— E.A. Bucchianeri

#artist #artists #artists-life #arts-and-humanities #artsy

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause ↗

— William Shakespeare

#death

WRITER'S NIGHTMARE" "I felt a grip on my arm that shook my body, forcefully pulling me toward a tunnel of darkness.   The threat of consciousness stole my steady breath. For a moment I believed myself to be under siege; ripped from the sky in mid flight, my wings useless against the monstrous claws shredding my reality. I struggled to remain, to be left alone, aloft.  Reaching with wings that through the power of imagination were suddenly feathered arms, I grabbed at the air.  My hands clutched at something solid.  Wooden.  A desk.  My head spun as I held the furniture, suffering the illusion of falling.   "I was flying," I gasped, realizing suddenly that it had all been a dream. "My best fantasy ever." Lifting my head from its resting spot on the writing desk, I worked mentally to secure the fading images, hoping to capture their essence to memory before they faded away forever.  Bitterness tainted my heart against the hand that had jerked me into sensibility.  Why was I always so callously awakened while doing my best work?  Why not let me dream? ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#imagination #nightmare #richelle #richelle-goodrich #writer