#nigh

So why do I write, torturing myself to put it down? Because in spite of myself I've learned some things. Without the possibility of action, all knowledge comes to one labeled "file and forget," and I can neither file nor forget. Nor will certain ideas forget me; they keep filing away at my lethargy, my complacency. Why should I be the one to dream this nightmare? ↗

— Ralph Ellison

#nightmare #torture #why #write #dreams

Those heart-hammering nightmares that start to lose coherence even as you're waking up from them, but that still manage to leave their moldering fingerprints all across your day. ↗

— Mike Carey

#nightmares #dreams

The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields, and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Nighttime is womb- time. Our souls come out to play. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression falls away. We rest in the night. ↗

— John O'Donohue

#nature

Batman: a force of chaos in my world of perfect order. The dark side of the Soviet dream. Rumored to be a thousand murdered dissidents, they said he was a ghost. A walking dead man. A symbol of rebellion that would never fade as long as the system survived. Anarchy in black. ↗

— Mark Millar

#batman #dark-knight #red-son #superman #dreams

I love the silent hour of night, for blissful dreams may then arise, revealing to my charmed sight what may not bless my waking eyes. ↗

— Anne Brontë

#night #dreams

Ma pean vähemalt öösel saama mina ise olla. ↗

— Kati Murutar

#myself #night #life

Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities. ↗

— William 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

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