A Quote by Roald Dahl

I am the maker of music, the dreamer of dreams! — © Roald Dahl
I am the maker of music, the dreamer of dreams!
The dreamer dreams, and the dreamer within the dream dreams.
Dreams are stories made by and for the dreamer, and each dreamer has his own folds to open and knots to untie.
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.
I am a dreamer but when I wake, you can't break my spirit, it's my dreams you take
I'm just a dreamer I dream my life away i'm just a dreamer Who dreams of better days
I am and always will be the optimist. The hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams.
I am not learning definitions as established in even the latest dictionaries. I am not a dictionary-maker. I am a person a dictionary-maker has to contend with. I am a living evidence in the development of language.
Dreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.
I am very comfortable with conflict, be it of the legal or mortal kind. My father was a mediator, a bridge maker. I am a grave maker.
I am the image maker, I am the magic maker, I can turn the most ordinary man in the world into a star.
I am quite a dreamer. I think we all are dreamers. We all don't like to live a practical life all the time. There is a thin line between our hopes and dreams.
I have always been a great dreamer; in dreams I am more active than in my real life, and these shadows sapped me of health and energy.
I think music is a selfish masturbatory event - for the listener, the maker, the candlestick...maker.
Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it? It lives on in Fantastica, deep under earth. There are forgotten dreams stored in many layers. The deeper one digs, the closer they are. All Fantastica rests on a foundation of forgotten dreams.
I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can’t help re-living such moments as these in my dreams, for such moments are something I have very rarely experienced. I am going to dream about you the whole night, the whole week, the whole year.
The Land of Dreams, that mystical realm, where the oddest of visions appear, come wander through scenes of joyful peace, or stampeded through nightmares of fear. Dare we open those secret doors, down dusty paths of mind, in long-forgotten corners, what memories we'll find. Who rules o'er the Kingdom of Night, where all is not what it seems? 'Tis I, the Weaver of Tales, for I am the Dreamer of Dreams!
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