dreaming

The next time you feel yourself giving in to the sometimes overwhelming urge to panic about the fate of literature in the digital age, follow this simple remedy: remember that you dream. For that is ironclad proof . . . that literature__hat narrative art in whatever form__ill never die. Humans, strange creatures that we are, make sense of our lives by telling stories. In the space between each day and the next, we refresh our minds by concocting the most fantastic and elaborate fictions. We spend roughly a third of our lives thus, re-arranging our scattered experiences into stories. That we do it at all is bizarre and inexplicable. But as long as we do it, we will crave stories__uman stories, stories that speak to us__n our waking life. The Internet, powerful as it is, cannot change that.

We know how to dream beautifully! And in our dreams we are always extraordinarily active! We cross oceans, found colonies, introduce ideal governments, and die as Kings or at least Presidents of Republics! In actual life, however, we groan, we are miserable, and we greatly resent being obliged to bother about going to the Bank, in order to receive the interest of the capital acquired for us by our more energetic ancestors.

I had a dream about you. We were actors in a horror movie and I was hunting you down with a knife. When I finally cornered you the director yelled "Cut".... What? I can't be blamed for following instructions.

you simply couldn't guard yourself against dreams. they attacked late at night when a person was at the most vulnerable.

It is a fact that if an impulse from one or the other sphere comes up and is not lived out, then it goes back down and tends to develop anti-human qualities. What should have been a human impulse becomes a tiger-like impulse. For instance, a man has a feeling impulse to say something positive to someone and he blocks it off through some inhibition. He might then dream that he had a spontaneous feeling impulse on the level of a child and his conscious purpose had smashed it. The human is still there, but as a hurt child. Should he do that habitually for five years, he would no longer dream of a child who had been hurt but of a zoo full of raging wild animals in a cage. An impulse which is driven back loads up with energy and becomes inhuman. This fact, according to Dr. Jung, demonstrates the independent existence of unconscious.

I look out over my life and see a million question marks with only a few definitive exclamation points. I'm living for the next exclamation.

I had a dream about you last night. In this dream we were walking down the beautiful Japanese streets of Florida. Fukuoka is nice in the summer.

You can shoo people away in real life, but not when they force their way in through the dream door.

Most people who spend their lives are dreaming of having a summer house somewhere in the suburb of their city where they could lie in the hot sun all day long, drinking coffee and juice. They think they are enjoying life, but really they are spending life.

Thundering hooves beat the frozen ground, faster and faster as the rider whipped the horse. Snow and mud lay thick on the earth, and rogue snowflakes drifted through the night sky.Celaena ran__wifter than her young legs could manage. Everything hurt, Trees ripped at her dress and hair; stones sliced her feet. She scrambled through the woods, breathing so hard she couldn't muster the air to cry for help. She must reach the bridge. It couldn't cross the bridge.Behind her, a sword shrieked as it was drawn from its sheath.She fell, slamming into mud and rock. The sound of the approaching demon filled the air as she struggled to rise. But the mud held fast, and she could not run.Reaching for a bush, her small hands bleeding, the horse now close behind, she_

Let me fly in your own sky, soaring and grasping your tranquil thoughts, touching your dreams with my sincere prayers.

For the ones who dream of stranger worlds.

We spend a good part of our lives dreaming, especially when we're awake.

What can I expect from myself? My sensation in all their horrible acuity, and a profound awareness of feeling. A sharp mind that only destroys me, and an unusual capacity for dreaming to keep me entertained. A dead will and a reflection that cradles it, like a living child.

McAfee, I could try this case in my sleep and still win.""Guess that's your plan, then, since you're clearly dreaming.

I know in my mindI would leave you nowIf I had the strength toI would leave you upTo your own devicesWill you not talkCan you take pityI don't ask muchBut won't you speakPlease.

Dreaming was easier than screaming, and screaming was easier than worrying, and worrying was easier than crying, which was what she knew she would be reduced to if she didn__ keep a hard eye on herself.

You must try to forget all you have learned,' said the old man. 'You must begin to dream. From this time on you must shut your ears to the roaring of the voices.