I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.
I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare.
I don't feel like a dream girl, but I think it's really nice. I guess a part of me wishes I got that sort of attention in my real life. Because in my real life, I'm this weird, dorky girl who just hangs out with her dog.
Beauty, brains, and a complete psycho. My dream girl.
In general-like not just in fiction but in life-it doesn't work out well when someone imagines someone else as a manic pixie dream girl or an Edward Cullen or anything other than a full, complex human being. That said, while I've tried to reflect that in my books, I don't think I've always succeeded, because I am always running up against my own insufficiencies and biases etc.
I know that the black man's sick attitude toward the white woman is a revolutionary sickness: it keeps him perpetually out of harmony with the system that is oppressing him. Many whites flatter themselves with the idea that the Negro male's lust and desire for the white dream girl is purely an esthetic attraction, but nothing could be further from the truth. His motivation is often of such a bloody, hateful, bitter, and malignant nature that whites would really be hard pressed to find it flattering.
It's tough to describe my dream girl
or simply:
