A Quote by Erin Morgenstern

I have absurdly vivid dreams. — © Erin Morgenstern
I have absurdly vivid dreams.
If the experience of reality matters, than nothing is going to be better than dreaming. Because dreams feel real to everybody while they are happening. Some people have vivid imagination, some not so vivid, but everybody has vivid dreams.
Some people have vivid imagination, some not so vivid, but everybody has vivid dreams.
I have a really weird thing with my dreams. I've had vivid dreams in the past that actually came true days after the dream.
I've always been fascinated by dreams - mine are so vivid. I went through a period in my 20s when I wrote down my dreams every morning. Then life intervened, and I stopped doing it.
I definitely have recurring dreams. My dreams are crazy and surreal, which is why I appreciate Carl Jung, 'cause I feel that there has to be some kind of correlation. My dreams are like surreal sci-fi thrillers, and I don't spend time watching stuff like that. I never grew up on stuff like that. I've always just had very, very vivid dreams. This is awful to say, but, lately, I've been dreaming about witnessing murder a lot. What does this mean?
I keep having vivid dreams of success. Then it's time to sleep.
The great city can teach something that no university by itself can altogether impart: a vivid sense of the largeness of human brotherhood, a vivid sense of man's increasing obligation to man; a vivid sense of our absolute dependence on one another.
It is a great advantage for any man to be able to talk or hear, neither ignorantly nor absurdly, upon any subject; for I have known people, who have not said one word, hear ignorantly and absurdly; it has appeared by their inattentive and unmeaning faces.
I don't understand people who dream in black and white. I just don't get it. My dreams have always been vivid color.
I dream crazy vivid dreams. Like, entire movies. And sometimes I write songs about them.
I have very vivid dreams - almost always action-adventure. I'm often on the run. I've always had dreams. When I was little, I'd go to sleep with my head on my hands, which were in fists like I was looking through a camera. I felt like sleep was the movies - just drifting off to the movies.
Mind is nothing but dreams and dreams - dreams of the past, dreams of the future, dreams of how things should be, dreams of great ambitions, achievements. Dreams and desires, that is the stuff mind is made of. But it surrounds you like a China Wall. And because of it the fish remains unaware of the ocean.
I have very vivid dreams and nightmares, and my biggest fear is of some kind of dystopian future where we're advanced in every way except in our humanity.
Where there is life, there is hope. Where there are hopes, there are dreams. Where there are vivid dreams repeated, they become goals. Goals become the action plans and game plans that winners dwell on in intricate detail, knowing that achievement is almost automatic when the goal becomes an inner commitment. The response to the challenges of life - purpose - is the healing balm that enables each of us to face up to adversity and strife.
Dreams don't come true. Dreams die. Dreams get compromised. Dreams end up dealing meth in a booth at the back of the Olive Garden. Dreams choke to death on bay leaves. Dreams get spleen cancer.
San Francisco is where gay fantasies come true, and the problem the city presents is whether, after all, we wanted these particular dreams to be fulfilled--or would we have preferred others? Did we know what price these dreams would exact? Did we anticipate the ways in which, vivid and continuous, they would unsuit us for the business of daily life? Or should our notion of daily life itself be transformed?
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