Teenage dreams so hard to beat
God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.
Poetry comes to me out of thin air or out of my unconscious mind. It's sort of the way dreams come to us and the way that we get knowledge from them, through television, old movies, which I watch a lot of. Lines of dialogue suddenly seem to be part of a poem.
At the time we were funding our national debt, we heard much about "a public debt being a public blessing"; that the stock representing it was a creation of active capital for the aliment of commerce, manufactures and agriculture. This paradox was well adapted to the minds of believers in dreams.
Never abandon your dreams. Follow the signs.
The boogeyman sleeps on your side of the bad Whispers in my ear :"Better of Dead" Fills my dreams with sirens and lights of regret Kisses me gently when i wake up in a sweat "boo!
Never put an age limit on your dreams
I mean, every child at one stage dreams of being a prince or a princess.
Dreams fulfilled are imperfect.
I think that we all have something in common in that we have dreams. The thing about dreams is sometimes you get to live them out.
The natural world is not only a set of constraints but of contexts within which we can more fully realize our dreams.
In sleep, when fancy is let loose to play, Our dreams repeat the wishes of the day.
We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams. World-losers and world-forsakers, Upon whom the pale moon gleams; Yet we are the movers and shakers, Of the world forever, it seems.
Dreams are large possessions. . . they are an expansion of life, an enlightenment, and a discipline. I thank God for my dream life; my daily life would be far poorer, if it wanted the second sight of dreams.
As long as we dare to dream and don't get in the way of ourselves, anything is possible - there's truly no end to where our dreams can take us.
Ills are many, blessings few, but dreams tonight will shelter you.
It isn't a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream.
This image of herself as a not ordinary women, an image which was trembling now in his eyes, might suddenly disappear. Nothing more difficult to live up to than men's dreams.
Novels are to love as fairy tales to dreams.
When our thoughts look real, we live in a world of suffering. When they look subjective, we live in a world of choice. When they look arbitrary, we live in a world of possibility. And when we see them as illusory, we wake up inside a world of dreams.