Dreams and Imagination

Electric Kool-Aid Acid test.

Our aspirations are our possibilities.

Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.

People who insist on telling their dreams are among the terrors of the breakfast table.

I doubt that the imagination can be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, he would grow up to be an eggplant.

Imagination offers people consolation for what they cannot be, and humor for what they actually are.

“Truth is a matter of the imagination.

The imagination is to the effect as the shadow to the opaque body which causes the shadow.

Optimist: day dreamer more elegantly spelled.

You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.

My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamor’d of an ass.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought!

And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come.

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

Sometimes we see a cloud that’s dragonish; A vapor sometime like a bear or lion, A tower’d citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon ’t.

Affection! thy intention stabs the center: Thou dost make possible things not so held, Communicat’st with dreams.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beck’ning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men’s names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.

Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.

But oh! as to embrace me she inclin’d, I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.

I had a dream which was not all a dream.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

He thought he saw an Albatross That fluttered round the lamp: He looked again, and found it was A penny postage stamp. “You’d best be getting home,” he said, “The nights are very damp.”

The strangest things are there for me, Both things to eat and things to see, And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.