A Quote by Michel Leiris
If a dream affords the dreamer some light on himself, it is not the person with closed eyes who makes the discovery but the person with open eyes lucid enough to fit thoughts together. Dream-a scintillating mirage surrounded by shadows-is essentially poetry.
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There is an idea, first of all, of vision fully formed with the eyes closed. Of course the vision we have in a lucid dream often has greater lucidity and clarity than vision with the eyes open.
One should share their dreams with others right away in the morning. One can use my Lightning Dreamwork process. First, the person shares the dream without being interrupted. Then each person shares their thoughts about the dream by saying, "If it were my dream," not presuming to tell the person what the dream means in an objective way. Lastly, the dreamer is helped to make an action plan for embodying the energy and guidance from the dream.
The difference between a dreamer and a visionary is that a dreamer has his eyes closed and a visionary has his eyes open
He's dreaming with his eyes open, and those that dream with their eyes open are dangerous, for they do not know when their dreams come to an end.
I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through the dreams; and the dreamer will wake, and wonder why this dream seemed different, wonder how real their lives can truly be.
This life is but a dream. A state of sleep but how unfortunate that man's eyes open only when they are about to be closed (forever).
There is a drowsy state, between sleeping and waking, when you dream more in five minutes with your eyes half open, and yourself half conscious of everything that is passing around you, than you would in five nights with your eyes fast closed, and your senses wrapt in perfect unconsciousness. At such time, a mortal knows just enough of what his mind is doing, to form some glimmering conception of its mighty powers, its bounding from earth and spurning time and space, when freed from the restraint of its corporeal associate.
I want to convey how beautiful it is to close your eyes and dream. And then to open them and make that dream a reality.
All of the previously described techniques can be practiced with your eyes open and closed. Most people find that it is easier initially to practice meditation with their eyes closed.
Who is the ultimate dreamer? Call it as you will: God, higher consciousness, Krishna, spirit, whatever pleases you. .. One dream, one dreamer, billions of embodied characters acting out that one dream. .. Your true essence is that you are part and parcel of the one big dream.
The question has been asked, 'What is a woman?' A woman is a person who makes choices. A woman is a dreamer. A woman is a planner. A woman is a maker, and a molder. A woman is a person who makes choices. A woman builds bridges. A woman makes children and makes cars. A woman writes poetry and songs. A woman is a person who makes choices.
I, the dreamer clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last thin unbearable ecstatic instant of agony in order to sharpen the savor of the pain's surcease, waking into the reality, the more than reality, not to the unchanged and unaltered old time but into a time altered to fit the dream which, conjunctive with the dreamer, becomes immolated and apotheosized
Music is able to make a person dream. When you dream, you dream of something good, something beautiful, and when you dream, you always dream of yourself better than you are.
Don't be afraid to close your eyes and dream, but then open your eyes and see
The public has lost the habit of movie-going because the cinema no longer possesses the charm, the hypnotic charisma, the authority it once commanded. The image it once held for us all — that of a dream we dreamt with our eyes open — has disappeared. Is it still possible that one thousand people might group together in the dark and experience the dream that a single individual has directed?
To break out of the chaos of my darkness Into a lucid day is all my will. My words like eyes in night, stare to reach A centre for their light: and my acts thrown To distant places by impatient violence Yet lock together to mould a path of stone Out of my darkness into a lucid day.
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