A Quote by Ruby Bridges
I would dream that this coffin had wings, and it would fly around my bed at night, and so it was a dream that happened a lot, and that's what frightened me.
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I had a really intense flying dream most of my childhood into my teens. I would go out at night and fly all over the city and I could facilitate other people to fly with me.
In the middle of the dream I said to myself 'press pause' and in the dream I said I'm going to write this down. But I was so frightened to get out of bed and write it down that I would miss the rest of the story. And I had to know what happens. And I pressed play. When I finished there was a knowing that I would never forget this. I literally had a smile. There was a knowing in my sleep. And here I am. I was actually reading it to my dogs yesterday. I still find it quite incredible.
One night I had a dream, and in that dream a big black man appeared to me and told me what to mix up for my hair. I made up my mind I would begin to sell it.
The dream is everything in the sport of fishing. You dream with every cast of your fly that the shadowy form will finally rise to your fly. You dream as you drop off to sleep at night about the lunker that got loose just as you were about to net it.
One night I had a dream and woke up and wrote down the dream. That was my first short story. The dream was a kind of fantasy of me getting revenge on my father.
I swam across the rocks and compared myself favorably with the sars. To swim fishlike, horizontally, was the logical method in a medium eight hundred times denser than air. To halt and hang attached to nothing, no lines or air pipe to the surface, was a dream. At night I had often had visions of flying by extending my arms as wings. Now I flew without wings. (Since that first aqualung flight, I have never had a dream of flying.)
I have plenty of dream roles because there is so much I want to do, but my dream year would be to be in a single-camera comedy and then, on my hiatus, film a little low-budget indie drama. That would be a dream 12-month period. A dream role depends on having good material and working with people that I can learn from.
We plan our lives according to a dream that came to us in our childhood, and we find that life alters our plans. And yet, at the end, from a rare height, we also see that our dream was our fate. It's just that providence had other ideas as to how we would get there. Destiny plans a different route, or turns the dream around, as if it were a riddle, and fulfills the dream in ways we couldn't have expected.
I was angry and frightened, and I was scared. I knew what I had done. The whole night is my fault. None of this would have happened if I didn’t drink.
I don't dream a lot. But whenever I dream, I just dream about the day I just had or something like that. Mostly that's what I dream about. I dream about that current day. Other than that, I don't dream a lot.
I've heard that some authors do dream their books and I would love that if it happened to me, but so far it hasn't. Sometimes I'll get a good idea during the night and if I don't write it down, I won't remember it the next morning.
I had a recurring dream when I was younger where red foxes would chase me under tables. It was so weird. And I kept having the same dream.
Holland is a dream, Monsieur, a dream of gold and smoke-smokier by day, more gilded by night. And night and day that dream is peopled with Lohengrins like these, dreamily riding their black bicycles with high handle-bars, funereal swans constantly drifting throughout the whole country, around the seas, along the canals.
I guess my silly dream is to be on 'Game of Thrones.' I don't think that I can do that, but that's my silly dream. And there are a lot of American comedies, particularly on NBC, that I would, I would love to do.
In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed- But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted. Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around him with a ray Turned back upon the past? That holy dream- that holy dream, While all the world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding. What though that light, thro' storm and night, So trembled from afar- What could there be more purely bright In Truth's day-star?
If I had wings, no one would ask me: should I fly?
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