#dream

Don't dream it, be it ↗

— Dr Frank-N-Furter Rocky Horror Picture Show

#dreams

Souls and memories can do strange things during trance. ↗

— Bram Stoker

#dreams #memories #strange #dreams

We classify things as easy or difficult, but this is not right, tasks should be classified as possible or impossible and the possible ones can be easy or hard ↗

— Hatem A. Aly

#dreams

What’s the difference? Fill a hundred pits with dead Northmen, congratulations, have a parade! Kill one man in the same uniform as you? A crime. A murder. Worse than despicable. Are we not all men? All blood and bone and dreams? ↗

— Joe Abercrombie

#heroes #military #war #dreams

I was through with sleep. I didn't like what it brought me. ↗

— Ali Cross

#sleep #dreams

He had secret loves all over town, the kind of curly-haired big-bodied girls who wouldn't have said boo to a loser like him but about whom he could not stop dreaming. ↗

— Junot Díaz

#women #dreams

Miki-san... do you truly want that person's dream to come true? Or is it that you want to be that person's savior for making that dream come true? If you're going to fulfill someone else's dream, that's the time when it's most important to be sure you know your own wish. The two might seem the same, but they're entirely different. ↗

— Magica Quartet

#desires #dream #dreams #intention #intentions

I am a butterfly poet birthed from pain flying with the freedom of my verses. ↗

— Susie Clevenger

#dreams #journey #life #poetry #dreams

In the trenches between the burial mounds hundreds of dead soldiers sat side by side with their heads against the torn earth, as if they had fallen asleep together in a deep dream of war. ↗

— J.G. Ballard

#dreams

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