#mare

There was nothing the matter out there. It was in here, with me. I decided I'd better go to work, maybe that would exorcise me. I fled from the room almost as though it were haunted. It was too late to stop off at a breakfast counter now. I didn't want any, anyway. My stomach kept giving little quivers. In the end I didn't go to work, either. I couldn't, I wouldn't have been any good. I telephoned in that I was too ill to come, and it was no idle excuse, even though I was upright on my two legs. I roamed around the rest of the day in the sunshine. Wherever the sunshine was the brightest, I sought and stayed in that place, and when it moved on I moved with it. I couldn't get it bright enough or strong enough. I avoided the shade, I edged away from it, even the slight shade of an awning or of a tree. And yet the sunshine didn't warm me. Where others mopped their brows and moved out of it, I stayed - and remained cold inside. And the shade was winning the battle as the hours lengthened. It outlasted the sun. The sun weakened and died; the shade deepened and spread. Night was coming on, the time of dreams, the enemy. ("Nightmare") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#darkness #nighmare #night #shadow #shadows

Through the night we drove in a tangle of waking and sleeping, nightmares from hell and holy white dreams. ↗

— Glenda Millard

#drove #hell #holy #night #nightmares

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

We were happy. I know I ought to be able to tell you about it, yet I cannot, for while a nightmare will stay with you like hunger, when you awake from a happy dream, you have no memory of it. ↗

— Erik Christian Haugaard

#happiness #nightmare #dreams

But my gloom did not lessen. I knew that I'd had a bad dream, and I stood in the dark trying to recollect it. The second I closed my eyes, I was with the dead. They did things words cannot express. They spoke madness. ("Hanka") ↗

— Isaac Bashevis Singer

#dream #nightmare #dreams

I'm not sure if my dream is a dream, or a nightmare. ↗

— Steven Herrick

#nightmare #dreams

In a life where waking hours are draped in the costume of horrid nightmare, where reality has suddenly become questionable, it's easy to be scared by dreams. ↗

— Scott Sigler

#infected #nightmare #scott-sigler #dreams

Dreams so often become nightmares. Family can so easily become foes. And people are always more stupid than you give them credit for. ↗

— Mike A. Lancaster

#dreams #foes #nightmares #people #stupid

Mary fell asleep early, but her dreams were most unpleasant. She was a mouse running across the kitchen floor, and Elizabeth was a sharp-clawed cat waiting silently to pounce. Then she was a wild deer being chased by famished dogs. Elizabeth was a laughing huntsman in black velvet, urging the ravenous pack onward with a whip. And then Mary was her true self, barefoot and in a bedgown, attempting to escape by night. But the castle was dark and the halls were a winding maze. Mary ran down long shadowy corridors, panting and out of breath, but at every turn she ran into blank walls or locked doors. At last she managed to yank open a door, expecting to breathe the sweet air of freedom. But the way was blocked by laughing faces, all of them growing larger and larger while Mary got smaller and smaller. There was Elizabeth . . . and Dudley . . . and Cecil . . . and Walsingham . . . and their loud laughter filled her ears, drowning her pleas like ocean waves. ↗

— Margaret George

#dreams

The difference between a friend and an enemy is friendliness. ↗

— Frank Delaney

#frank-delaney #friend #friendliness #friendship #the-matchmaker-of-kenmare