The waking have one world in common; sleepers have each a private world of his own.

Dreaming is not merely an act of communication (or coded communication, if you like); it is also an aesthetic activity, a game of the imagination, a game that is a value in itself.

She entered his dreams sane and left mad. She began with words of love and ended with sounds that frightened him.

Dreams are faithful interpreters of our inclinations; but there is art required to sort and understand them.

Do you want to know what I most regret about my youth? That I didn't dream more boldly and demand of myself more impossible things; for all one does in maturity is to carve in granite or porphyry the soap bubble one blew in youth! Oh to have dreamed harder!

Just let them come, visit, like birds.

Everywhere about the house in my dream, the sand was endlessly blowing, burying the print of the coyote and lizard, rattling in the vibora weed, driftng close to the ground like barren snow so that the whole earth seemed to be moving, a restless gray ghost of itself trying to find those lusty prairie breasts, fertile as a woman and flowing with milk and wild honey, that used to be.

There is a prodigious selfishness in dreams: they live perfectly deaf and invulnerable amid the cries of the real world.

I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.

In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day's caravan.