A Quote by William Shakespeare

When I waked, I cried to dream again — © William Shakespeare
When I waked, I cried to dream again
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
...and then, in dreaming, / The clouds methought would open and show riches / Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked / I cried to dream again.
Having a dream, living that dream, losing that dream, dreaming again and then having that dream come true again is one of the greatest feelings ever because I`m stronger.
Having a dream, living that dream, losing that dream, dreaming again and then having that dream come true again is one of the greatest feelings ever because I'm stronger.
'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, you have waked me too soon, I must slumber again.
Let us learn to dream again. To learn to dream again is to have big plans. To learn to dream again is to readjust, to look to God.
It is so fatally easy to confuse an aesthetic appreciation of the spiritual life with the life itself-to dream that you have waked, washed, and dressed and then to find yourself still in bed.
I cried in English, I cried in french, I cried in all the languages, because tears are the same all around the world.
My mother died when I was five, and all I did was sit and cry. I cried and cried and cried all day, until the neighbors went away.
The first time I didn't get called back at an audition, I cried. My mom told me, 'We're doing this for fun, and if it's not fun anymore, we're not going to do it. So if you ever cry again, we're going to stop.' I never cried from then on, and I kept that lesson for the rest of my life.
She cried for the life she could not control. She cried for the mentor who had died before her eyes. She cried for the profound loneliness that filled her heart. But, above all, she cried for the future ... which suddenly felt so uncertain.
I wanted to give people the ability once again to realize that they can still dream, but it has to be a new American dream that's based in honesty, integrity, and security - a dream that allows you to sleep at night, a dream that is attainable and allows you to stand in your truth.
I have this dream again and again: I find extra rooms in the place where I live. You could say it's a very New York dream, but I think it's about writing - the feeling that there is something behind a wall or a door.
I cried over beauty, I cried over pain, and the other time I cried because I felt nothing. I can't help it. I'm just a cliché of myself.
In the morning was again distressed as soon as I waked, hearing much talk about the world and the things of it. I perceived the men were in some measure afraid of me; and I discoursed something about sanctifying the sabbath, if possible to solemnize their minds: but when they were at a little distance, they again talked freely about secular affairs. Oh, I thought what a hell it would be, to live with such men to eternity!
We dream, we wake on a cold hillside, we pursue the dream again. In the beginning was the dream, and the work of disenchantment never ends.
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