Dreams Quotes

If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.

Dreams are the touchstones of our characters.

Always believe in your dreams, because if you don't, you'll still have hope.

Here's to you, men I never met, Yet hope to meet behind the veil, Thronged on some starry parapet, That looks down upon Innisfail, And sees the confluence of dreams That clashed together in our night,

Some burn damp faggots, others may consume The entire combustible world in one small room As though dried straw, and if we turn about The bare chimney is gone black out Because the work had finished in that flare. Soldier, scholar, …

I love to dream, but I never try to dream and think at the same time.

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

If others can see it as I have seen it, then it may be called a vision rather than a dream.

And as well as I dream, I reason if I want, for that's just another kind of dream.

We men of study, whose heads are in our books, have need to be straitly looked after! We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.

Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?

The quick Dreams, The passion-winged Ministers of thought.

A people, roaring ripe With victory, rises, menaces, stands renewed, Sheds its old piddling aims, Approves its virtue, puts behind itself The comfortable dream, and goes, Armoured and militant,

But Master, Sky-heart, Knight of our fairer dream, You do still tread this day; Nor bows nor spears shall stay your steps. You walk through all our arrows.

This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at "The Traveller's Rest",

O dream of fame, what hast thou been to me But the destroyer of life's calm content!

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, …

And in her raiment's hem was traced in flame WISDOM, a name to shake All evil dreams of power — a sacred name.

Ah, the strange, sweet, lonely delight Of the Valleys of Dream.

And therefore to-day is thrilling With a past day's late fulfilling; And the multitudes are enlisted In the faith that their fathers resisted, And, scorning the dream of to-morrow, Are bringing to pass, as they may,

She says, "But in contentment I still feel The need of some imperishable bliss. "Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams And our desires.

Dreams of doing good For good-for-nothing people.

But me they’ll lash in hammock, drop me deep. Fathoms down, fathoms down, how I’ll dream fast asleep. I feel it stealing now. Sentry, are you there? Just ease these darbies at the wrist, And roll me over fair. I am sleepy, and the oozy …