#dreaming

Nothing makes time pass or shortens the way like a thought that absorbs in itself all the faculties of the one who is thinking. External existence is then like a sleep of which this thought is the dream. Under its influence, time has no more measure, space has no more distance. ↗

— Alexandre Dumas

#thoughts #time #dreams

لم تكن أنت، لم أكن أنا... في عالمٍ غير العالم، قبل أن تتردَّد أنت، وقبل أن أستيقظ أنا... ↗

— إيناس حليم

#romantic #dreams

It was possible in this wonderful city for that nameless little boy -for any of its millions- to have a decent chance to scale the walls and achieve what they wished. Wealth, rank or an imposing name counted for nothing. The only credential the city asked was the boldness to dream. For those who did, it unlocked its gates and its treasures, not caring who they were or where they came from. ↗

— Moss Hart

#dreaming #new-york #dreams

McAfee, I could try this case in my sleep and still win." "Guess that's your plan, then, since you're clearly dreaming. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#dreaming #dreams

You’re afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep, and dreams are a part of sleep. When you’re awake you can suppress imagination. But you can’t suppress dreams. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#dreams #imagination #responsibility #dreams

I'm dreaming of a month of Sundays. ↗

— Steven Herrick

#month-of-sundays #dreams

There's a reason for every journey, and mine was prompted by boredom and the recklessness of youth, by a wish to break the bounds of my normal existence and familiarise myself with life and the world at large. ↗

— Walter Moers

#the-city-of-dreaming-books #walter-moers #dreams

I had a dream about you last night. We moved into a cabin in the countryside. I couldn't handle the spiders. You couldn't handle my drama. I moved back to the city. ↗

— Michael Summers

#dreams #funny #humor #life #relationships

Oh, to awake from dreaming! ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#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