Betty Smith Quotes

Who would ever give up the reality of dreams for relative knowledge?

What are you, Rose Hathaway? Are you real? You're a dream within a dream. I'm afraid touching you will make me wake up. You'll disappear.

All life is a dream, and all dreams are dreams.

To visualize is to see what is not there, what is not real - a dream. To visualize is, in fact, to make visual lies. Visual lies, however, have a way of coming true.

"Well, it's no use your talking about waking him," said Tweedledum, "when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

No fiction, no myths, no lies, no tangled webs - this is how Irie imagined her homeland. Because homeland is one of the magical fantasy words like unicorn and soul and infinity that have now passed into language.

Just because it's a dream doesn't mean it's a lie.

If this be to have sense, if to be awake Be but to see this bright, great sleep of things, For the rarer potion mine own dreams I'll take And for truth commune with imaginings

Dreams have only the pigmentation of fact.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.

Perhaps life is just that... a dream and a fear.

I knew there was something special about the theater for me something beyond the regular reality, something that I could get into and transcend and become something other than myself.

Where all is but dream, reasoning and arguments are of no use, truth and knowledge nothing.

You can't have the word 'fantasy' or 'fantastical' without a contrast. It has to stem from a grounded experience.

Fantasy is the only truth.

Everything is only a dream.

There are other relations besides reality, which the mind is capable of grasping and which also are primary, like chance, illusion, the fantastic, the dream.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

Strange to dream in the right shape and build in the wrong shape, but maybe that is what we do every day, never believing that a dream could tell the truth.

We wake from one dream into another dream.

Some of my songs are like dreams, and when you go to sleep at night you don't know if you're gonna have a dream or what you're gonna dream about.

Everybody has their own America, and then they have pieces of a fantasy America that they think is out there but they can't see.

Tonight, I've finally learned to tell fantasy from reality. And, knowing the difference, I choose fantasy.

I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream