We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers.
We are all geniuses when we dream.
Dreams are the seedlings of reality.
We've got to have a dream if we are going to make a dream come true.
Recall the old story of the rather refined young man who preferred sex dreams to visiting brothels because he met a much nicer type of girl that way.
Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything.
Where much is expected from an individual, he may rise to the level of events and make the dream come true.
Those dreams that on the silent night intrude, and with false flitting shapes our minds delude ... are mere productions of the brain. And fools consult interpreters in vain.
Never laugh at anyone's dreams.
Believe in your dreams. If you don't, who will?
I close my eyes, then I drift away, into the magic night I softly say. A silent prayer, like dreamers do, then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you.
Follow your dreams, transform your life.
I know how men in exile feed on dreams.
Writing is nothing more than a guided dream.
We become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams.
People are never more insecure than when they become obsessed with their fears at the expense of their dreams.
There are as many pillows of illusion as flakes in a snow-storm. We wake from one dream into another dream.
Obviously one must hold oneself responsible for the evil impulses of one's dreams. In what other way can one deal with them? Unless the content of the dream rightly understood is inspired by alien spirits, it is part of my own being.
We all dream; we do not understand our dreams, yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake.
We do not really feel grateful toward those who make our dreams come true; they ruin our dreams.
We've removed the ceiling above our dreams. There are no more impossible dreams.
My theory has always been, that if we are to dream, the flatteries of hope are as cheap, and pleasanter, than the gloom of despair.
The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives and the dreams shall never die.
In the dream life you don't deliberately set out to dream about a house night after night; the dream itself insists you look at whatever is trying to come into visibility.
There are men who would do anything, asleep, and I'm not sure what stops them when they wake. I do not know how they draw the line.
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