... as we travel again between life and death, Waking and dream, blinking, while layers within layers, None better, none worse, unravel and knit up before us . . .
A Western-style democracy in Afghanistan is a dream. I don't see that as a reality anytime soon. But I think some form of representative political process is not that far-fetched.
Perfection in any field does not come from dreaming to be perfect, yet from allowing your brain to trust the actions of your body and your body to trust the knowledge of your brain.
It was not my dream to be an artist. How could it have been? I thought, artist, much like a leader, was something you either were or weren't. Never something you set out to be.
I think it's a problem when something's a dream because it'll never live up to your expectations. It's better to go somewhere thinking it'll be horrible, and then be pleasantly surprised.
You are not a ghost.' I was sure of that. Wherever the dreams came from, they were not really her. 'Of course I am.' Amy shook her head. 'That is all memories are. Ghosts and demons kicking around upstairs.
Only as high as I reach can I grow Only as far as I seek can I go Only as deep as I look can I see Only as much as I dream can I be
To have your first No. 1 as an artist was everything I could have ever dreamed for. Now we're keeping our fingers crossed, and hopefully we'll have many more, but there's certainly nothing like the first one.
Come visit me in my dreams sometime. Look a little older and I'll look a little younger -- who knows what could happen. - Old Man Crow
I never dream in French, but certain French words seem better or more fun than English words - like 'pois chiches' for chick peas!
I felt alive when I read a script and acted out a scene, or sang a song. It was my dream. I'm just very lucky that I'm still doing it and able to earn a living from it.
My dream concept is that I have a camera and I am trying to photograph what is essentially invisible. And every once in a while I get a glimpse of her and I grab that picture.
I had always dreamed of living in Chapel Hill. When I was a college student at Hollins University in Virginia, I came down to Chapel Hill for summer school and just loved it.
My reality is at the end of the dream. When I walk down the road of life, searching for the door that will guide me to my reality, I am merely walking to confirm there is nothing there.
What upset me the most was not that I would die, but that I was letting down my parents. I felt very guilty for chasing this dream career of mine, at the expense of my parents.
I knew, as soon as I woke up, that the dream had come from God and it was about the reality of Jesus. The truth of Him. The He was a person whose pronouns you had to capitalize. That He was God.
But my dreaming self refuses to be consoled. It continues to wander, aimless, homeless, alone. It cannot be convinced of its safety by any evidence drawn from my waking life.
I speak to the Black experience, but I am always talking about the human condition--about what we can endure, dream, fail at and survive.
I did something a lot of people will have to do in this economy if they want to eventually land their dream job. I turned down an offer to take a high-paying position in another field because it wouldn't fulfill me.
If I dream that I'm directing, it's not a film, it's like a commercial for cotton candy, and I've got four feet of cotton candy all around me that I've got to break through, like a brick wall or a fortress.
Upon arriving, meeting their teachers and signing up for classes, these students began to realize that their attendance at Delaware State University was not a goal achieved, but rather a dream being sewn - a first step, if you will.
