#dre

في بعض الاوقات نحتاج الى الكلمة المعبرة عن الاحلام حتى نستيقض من نومنا ↗

— Ali Alzoukari

#dreams

. . .when the album was done I loved it. It was a mixture of electric and acoustic solo performances with dubs. I called it Le Noise, after Dan. It was a French Canadian joke, a very English was of saying Lanois. I was doing a show that introduced a lot of the songs, and things were going great. I was very happy. ↗

— Neil Young

#joke #dreams

The dream has a very striking way of dealing with the category of opposites and contradictions. This is simply disregarded. To the dream 'No' does not seem to exist. In particular, it prefers to draw opposites together into a unity or to represent them as one. Indeed, it also takes the liberty of representing some random element by its wished-for opposite, so that at first one cannot tell which of the possible poles is meant positively or negatively in the dream-thoughts. ↗

— Sigmund Freud

#dreams

One hot summer evening Peregrin fell asleep under a tree. He dreamed that he was walking along a street carrying a bowl, in which Nickeling, his pet goldfish, swam. ↗

— Tom Seidmann Freud

#dreams

Politicians and sports coaches both need to be smart enough to master the game, but dumb enough to think it matters. ↗

— David Mitchell

#dreams

Tokyo is too close up to see, sometimes. There are no distances and everything is above your head - dentists, kindergartens, dance studios. Even the roads and walkways are up on murky stilts. An evil-twin Venice with all the water drained away. ↗

— David Mitchell

#dreams

All these people like my mother paying counselors and clinics to reattach them to reality; all of us people here paying Sony and Sega to reattach us to unreality. ↗

— David Mitchell

#dreams

She let him finish her sentences for her for so long that now he starts them too. ↗

— David Mitchell

#dreams

The thing, whatever it was - and no one was ever sure afterwards whether it was a dream or a fit or what - happened at that peculiar hour before dawn when human vitality is at its lowest ebb. The Blue Hour they sometimes call it, l'heure bleue - the ribbon of darkness between the false dawn and the true, always blacker than all the rest of the night has been before it. Criminals break down and confess at that hour; suicides nerve themselves for their attempts; mists swirl in the sky; and - according to the old books of the monks and the hermits - strange, unholy shapes brood over the sleeping rooftops. At any rate, it was at this hour that her screams shattered the stillness of that top-floor apartment overlooking the Pare Monceau. Curdling, razor-edged screams that slashed through the thick bedroom door. ("I'm Dangerous Tonight") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#fear #horror #l-heure-bleue #night #the-blue-hour

Maldonado's face was ghastly. 'That' she said, pointing below the bed where the cat lurked, 'and that' - pointing to what lay on the floor - 'prove it was no dream. Do dreams leave marks behind them?' ("I'm Dangerous Tonight") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#nightmare #nightmares #dreams