Dreaming Of Amelia Quotes

So we are steaming along without any landmark; we can't gauge our speed. We are making progress and yet nothing is changing. It's not navigation but dreaming. ~ Albert Camus

And besides, can't I do it the way I always used to as a child in matters that were dangerous? I don't even need to go to the country myself, it isn't necessary. I'll send my clothed body. If it staggers out of the door of my room, the staggering will indicate not fear but its nothingness. Nor is it excitement if it stumbles on the stairs, if it travels in the country, sobbing as it goes, and there eats its supper in tears. For I myself am meanwhile lying in my bed, smoothly covered over with the yellow-brown blanket, exposed to the breeze that is wafted through the seldom-aired room. The carriages and people in the street move and walk hesitantly on shining ground, for I am still dreaming. ~ Franz Kafka

Much as I hate to break you two up…" Daciana coughed delicately from the doorway. "We have a visitor." She eyed my new outfit and grinned. "You look phenomenal. Very intimidating and 'Bringer of Death.'"

Thomas groaned as I stepped out of his grasp, then shot his sister a withering glare Aunt Amelia would have been proud of. "Bringer of Death is what the villagers will label me if you continue to ruin all of our clandestine moments, Daci. Go entertain your visitor on your own. ~ Kerri Maniscalco

Moonlight

I know when the sun is in China
because the night shining other-light
crawls into my bed. She is moon.
Her eyes slit and yellow she is the last
one out of a dingy bar in Albuquerque -
Fourth Street, or from similar avenues
in Hong Kong. Where someone else has also
awakened, the night thrown back and asked,
'where is the moon, my lover'?
And from here I always answer in my dreaming,
'the last time I saw her was in the arms
of another sky'. ~ Joy Harjo

Tugging at his collar to loosen it, he pushed at the half-open door and entered the room.
Miss Hathaway stood near the doorway, waiting with tightly leashed impatience, while Merripen remained a dark presence in the corner. As Cam approached and looked into her upturned face, the panic dissolved in a curious rush of heat. Her blue eyes were smudged with faint lavender shadows, and her soft-looking lips were pressed into a tight seam. Her hair had been pulled back and pinned, dark and shining against her head.
That scraped-back hair, the modest restrictive clothing, advertised her as a woman of inhibitions. A proper spinster. But nothing could have concealed her radiant will. She was ... delicious. He wanted to unwrap her like a long-awaited gift. He wanted her vulnerable and naked beneath him, that soft mouth swollen from hard, deep kisses, her pale body flushed with desire. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Life is a game and you are the player. As you master the game, so you also create it. ~ Jay Woodman

Literature is, in fact, the fruit of leisure. ~ Amelia B. Edwards

Happiness can be a simple thing just like dreaming of someone you've missed for a long time. ~ Jhane Barnes

On the edge of dreaming when the brain lets go, when it stops its scheming, our blood runs slow... Then the heart speaks clearly of the things it knows, things it brought so dearly at the evening's glow... And a misty sunset fills the west with yellow, gold and scarlet red. The bowl of space a dawn sheds light upon our silky bed. For you I send refreshing rain to wash the past away. A quiet breeze drifts warmly across your tired face. It brings the scents from flower climbs, and leaves without a trace. With vines and newborn stars in our hair...undressed, bronzed platinum we are as summer in your golden church... Like whispers lost at sea...we soar beyond the sky of fire...in harmony within the clash of elements... Together lost and free to claim our each desire. Like leaves we float to earth, once more...forbidden passion, romantic eyes, and heated lips...two burning amber hearts released and drinking slowly mysterious champagne of heaven sweetest rest... ~ Oksana Rus

I'm going with you," he said.
She frowned. "No, thank you."
"I insist."
"I don't need your services, Mr. Rohan."
Cam could think of a number of services she was clearly in need of, most of which would be a pleasure for him to provide. "Obviously it will be to everyone's benefit for you to retrieve Ramsay and leave London as quickly as possible. I consider it my civic duty to hasten your departure. ~ Lisa Kleypas

The dream world of sleep and the dream world of music are not far apart. I often catch glimpses of one as I pass through a door to the other, like encountering a neighbor in the hallway going into the apartment next to one's own. In the recording studio, I would often lie down to nap and wake up with harmony parts fully formed in my mind, ready to be recorded. I think of music as dreaming in sound. ~ Linda Ronstadt

You don't have to call me ma'am," I told him, wrapping my arms around myself some more as I entered the dining room.

His eyebrows lifted, eyeing me carefully. "You are in a relationship with Maxwell Alexander Emerson, are you not?"

"I am."

"Well, it just so happens Mr. Emerson is my employer and as such, so are you, hence the title 'ma'am', just as I call Mr. Uhler 'sir.'"

"You know about that."

"I was not aware it was a secret, and if it were, the lot of you are very poor at keeping it." He snickered ~ Amelia LeFay

I love letting my soul soar on a summer breeze, or getting entranced by the rhythm of the sea. It carries you off on its currents until you're completely lost and then drops you back on the shores of reality with salt on your cheeks and grains of dreams running through your fingers like sand. It's almost an occasional necessity – I guess because when you get completely, fantastically, dizzyingly lost you're temporarily suspended between what has been and what could be. In those first moments when you come back up for air, or when you float back down to the ground, you're living in the land of possibility, where you understand that reality can stretch just as far as you're willing to dream. ~ Cristen Rodgers

While I was looking into Olivia's mad eyes and dreaming, my son left his game and his place by the fire. I didn't even notice as he went toward what I had thought was a bundle of rags. I didn't notice as he turned it over and drew back the blanket, lifted it carefully in his small arms.
I only noticed when he spoke.
"Look, Daddy!"
Then, too late, I turned around. I did not know what I was seeing, but even then I felt a sudden lurch of shock and dread. I felt as if I had looked away at a crucial moment and my child had fallen into the fire and been burned horribly.
I saw my son, my Alan, my darling boy, and in his arms a creature with staring, terrible black eyes. Something that had not stirred or cried out even when Olivia threw it on the floor.
"Daddy," Alan said, glowing. "It's a baby. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

We speak more freely of our emotional complexes than of our material condition or of our socio-professional milieu; we prefer to ask ourselves about the homosexual component of our characters than about the history which has made us and which we have made. We too are victims and accomplices of alienation, reification, mystification. We too stagger beneath 'the weight of things said and done', of lies accepted and transmitted without belief. But we have no wish to know it. We are like sleepwalkers treading in a gutter, dreaming of our genitals rather than looking at our feet. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Life is like that little sweetheart. We dream it and we love it in dreaming it. We should not try to live it: otherwise, like that little boy, we will plunge into stupidity, though not at one swoop, for in life everything degenerates by imperceptible nuances. At the end of ten years we no longer recognize our dreams; we deny them, we live, like a cow, for the grass we are grazing on at the moment. And who knows if our wedding with death might not lead to our conscious immortality? ~ Marcel Proust

The dream that I've been having, about my high-school sweetheart, is not really about my high-school sweetheart, when you get right down to it. It's not a dream about Alison Koechner and our lost love and the precious little three-bedroom house in Maine we might have built together, had things gone a different way. I am not dreaming of white picket fences and Sunday crosswords and warm tea.
There's no asteroid in the dream. In the dream, life continues. Simple life, happy and white-picket lined or otherwise. Mere life. Goes on.
When I'm dreaming of Alison Koechner, what I'm dreaming of is not dying. ~ Ben H. Winters

Then, when Amelia was married, she found that the giving and receiving of forgiveness was a little like exercise. You didn't enjoy having to do it, but once you did, it got easier - and you learned to need it. Maybe that was what the Bible meant by being "exercised in the ~ Adina Senft

The deep secret of the brain is that not only the spinal cord but the entire central nervous system works this way: internally generated activity is modulated by sensory input. In this view, the difference between being awake and being asleep is merely that the data coming in from the eyes anchors the perception. Asleep vision (dreaming) is perception that is not tied down to anything in the real world; waking perception is something like dreaming with a little more commitment to what´s in front of you. Other examples of unanchored perception are found in prisoners in pitch-park solitary confinement, or in people in sensory deprivation chambers. Both of these situations quickly lead to hallucinations. ~ David Eagleman

Here are white men poised to run big marijuana businesses, dreaming of cashing in big - big money, big businesses selling weed - after 40 years of impoverished black kids getting prison time for selling weed, and their families and futures destroyed. Now, white men are planning to get rich doing precisely the same thing? ~ Michel'le

All film technique, I am convinced (and like many of my theories I am probably alone in adhering to it), originates in dreaming. We could dream slow motion before the moving camera was invented. In our dreams we could cut between parallel actions, we assembled montage shots long before some self-important Russian claimed to show us how. This is where film derives its particular power. It re-creates on screen what has been going on in our unconscious. ~ William Boyd

I had a dream about you, and in the dream you were dreaming of me. We were meant for each other subconsciously. ~ Rodney Jenkins

When you left
you left behind a field
of silent flowers
under a sky
full of unstirred clouds...you left
a million butterflies
mid-silky flutters

You left like midnight rain
against my dreaming ears

Oh and how you left
leaving my coffee scentless
and my couch comfortless

leaving upon my fingers
the melting snow of you

you left behind
a calendar full of empty days
and seasons full of aimless wanders

leaving me alone
with an armful of sunsets

your reflection behind
in every puddle
your whispers
upon every curtain
your fragrance
inside every petal

you left your echoes in between
the silence of my eyes

Oh and how you left
leaving my sands footless
and my shores songless

leaving me with windows full of
moistened moonlight

nights and nights
of only a half-warmed soul

and when you left...
you left behind a lifetime
of moments untouched

the light of a million stars
unshed

and when you left
you somehow
left my poem...unfinished.



(Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11
Number 1 June 2012) ~ Sanober Khan

Dream extravagantly, for God has imbued us with ample imagination to dream out to and across the very periphery of the impossible. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

We only see what we want to see, and hear what we want to hear. We don't perceive things the way they are. We have the habit of dreaming with no basis in reality. We literally dream things up in our imaginations. Because we don't understand something, we make an assumption about the meaning, and when the truth comes out, the bubble of our dream pops and we find out it was not what we thought it was at all. ~ Miguel Ruiz

It should have been a simple thing to get you out of my system. Instead, you rocked my foundation and made me need you. ~ Amelia Hutchins

I'm not singing for the future
I'm not dreaming of the past
I'm not talking of the fist time
I never think about the last ~ Shane MacGowan

I believe every day when I wake up and go to bed and during my dreaming time there's some moment of truth that's in front of me that will always be in front of me until the end of days. ~ Harvey Keitel

Know me, Amber. I am Amelia Hoffman, and that," I said emphatically, gesturing towards them, "is my family. And if you or anyone does anything to harm them, I will turn the wrath of the Earth Mother on you. I will turn this entire town into a desert waste if I have to, but I will protect my family. If that makes us enemies, then I will weep for you when you are dead. ~ Elizabeth Sharp

Adrian was a vampire. Adam was the Dark Heir of the Fae. Larissa was dead. Alden was facing danger to help us. I was homeless, jobless, and attracted to the one thing that would surely kill me in the end. The reality set in that I had even lost my dog, and now my life was just one tragedy away from becoming a sad country song. ~ Amelia Hutchins

Church always seemed the same. Jess could tune it out the same way he tuned out school, with his body standing up and sitting down in unison with the rest of the congregation but his mind numb and floating, not really thinking or dreaming but at least free. ~ Katherine Paterson

The traces of our life here will lie cold and still, dreaming, like the brittle eyes of dolls in an abandoned cabin, and the last men will look to them for explanations, or apologies. ~ Tim Cahill

Sometimes, on waking, she would close her eyes
For a last look at that white house she knew
In sleep alone, and held no title to,
And had not entered yet, for all her sighs.
What did she tell me of that house of hers?
White gatepost; terrace; fanlight of the door;
A widow's walk above the bouldered shore;
Salt winds that ruffle the surrounding firs.
Is she now there, wherever there may be?
Only a foolish man would hope to find
That haven fashioned by her dreaming mind.
Night after night, my love, I put to sea. ~ Richard Wilbur

This is the vowel of earth
dreaming its root
in flowers and snow,

mutation of weathers
and seasons,
a windfall composing
the floor it rots into.

I grew out of all this
like a weeping willow
inclined to
the appetites of gravity. ~ Seamus Heaney

I had a dream about you; you sat at the end of this long road field with things trying to keep me from you. You cheered me on as I became closer to you. ~ Rodney Jenkins

Was I a dreamer, looking for an elusive happiness that real life could never deliver? Or were we meant to know the rapture of being alive, even at the cost of breaking the rules? ~ Elizabeth Lesser

When we get closer, he pushes out both of the chairs across from him. He nods at them and says, "Take a seat."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Am I going to have to woo you before I get my slice?"

He smiles over the pizza that he's about to bite into. "Yeah, I do believe you're going to have to."

With zero self-respect, Amanda takes a seat and says, "That's no problem with me."

Honestly. Does she not know how to avoid showing all her cards at once?

When I take a seat, he holds out his hand. "I'm Aaron."

I take his hand and notice how rough it is. It's a working hand, one that experiences strenuous hours on the jobsite, day in, day out. "Amelia, and this is my friend, Amanda."

Aaron nods at Amanda. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure is mine and just so you know, Amelia is single and definitely on the market. Want me to give you her number?"

"Amanda, what the hell are you - ?"

"I would love it," Aaron says, leaning back in his chair while sipping his drink.

Slowly turning toward him, a little stunned, I ask, "You would?"

He nods with all the confidence in the world. "I would."

"But you don't know me. I could be a shovel-wielding rabbit killer."

He leans forward, his chest flexing under his shirt with the movement. "I'll take my chances."

Now feeling a little skeptical, I fold my arms over my chest and ask, "Why do you want i ~ Meghan Quinn

Sometimes, as Eve was born from one of Adam's ribs, a woman was born during my sleep from a cramped position of my thigh. Formed from the pleasure I was on the point of enjoying, she, I imagined, was the one offering it to me. My body, which felt in hers my own warmth, would try to find itself inside her, I would wake up. The rest of humanity seemed very remote compared to this woman I had left scarcely a few moments before; my cheek was still warm from her kiss, my body aching from the weight of hers. If, as sometimes happens, she had the features of a woman I had known in life, I would devote myself entirely to this end: to finding her again, like those who go off on a journey to see a longed-for city with their own eyes and imagine that one can enjoy in reality the charm of a dream. Little by little, the memory of her would fade, I had forgotten the girl of my dream. ~ Marcel Proust

I believe that, seven generations beyond us, those who look back on our time will find that it was the cry of the trees that helped to restart the dreaming and foster the understanding that we must dream not only for ourselves but also for our communities and for all that shares life with us in our fragile bubble of air. ~ Robert Moss

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. ~ Edgar Allan Poe

I've been wanting to start over, dreaming of it. And now, finally, I know where I want to be when I begin this new part of my life. ~ Kristin Hannah

He said he could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and people would still vote for him. Am I dreaming this?" Willa asked.
"No."
"No. He said that. It couldn't have been more than a week ago."
"Apparently he was right."
"Iano, nobody gets away with murder. You can't behave like a madman when you're running for public office. That kind of trash talk is supposed to end careers. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

The music of Hendrix wakes people up to their possibilities. It's more than just dreaming about being a guitar hero. ~ Carlos Santana

Imagine [...] that you are asleep, dreaming your human dreams. And then, when you wake, you find yourself in an unknown place. Your hands are bound, and your feet hobbled, and you're leashed to a stake in the ground. You have no idea who has done this to you, or how. You don't know if you'll ever escape. You are an unimaginable distance from home. And then, a strange creature finds you and says, 'An Arbeely! But I thought Arbeelys were only tales told to children! Quick, you must hide, and pretend to be one of us, for the people here would be frightened of you if they knew. ~ Helene Wecker

The children were pining for their father. They were dreaming about him. Though she had brought them up like they were her very life, though they knew nothing about their father, though their father did not even know about their birth or growing up - they wanted him. Sons needed to grow up inheriting their father's name.
She was Janaki - daughter of Mother Earth. Yet, she became Janaki - daughter of Janaka - under his care. These boys would get recognition only when they were regarded as Rama's offspring. Rama was Dasarathi - 'of Dasaratha' - he was fond of that name, revered it and took pride in it. These children too wanted that kind of acknowledgement. It was indeed the order of the world.
But would that happen? Would Rama embrace these children? Would he give them his name? Would he acknowledge them as descendants of his family? If that did not happen, how these innocent hearts would grieve!
If Rama accepted them as his children and took them to Ayodhya, what would happen to her?
She had left her father who loved her like his own life and taken Rama's hand.
Rama, whom she loved like her own life, had let go of her hand.
These children whom she had brought up, caring for them like her own life - would she be able to hold on to them? Should she even attempt to do that? Would they remain in her grasp even if she did? Would they not run to their father if he called them?
What did she have, other than the disgrace that Rama, bowing to public ~ Volga

All they're trying to do is tell you what they're like, and what you're like - what's going on - what the weather is now, today, this moment, the rain, the sunlight, look! Open your eyes; listen, listen. That is what the novelists say. But they don't tell you what you will see and hear. All they can tell you is what they have seen and heard, in their time in this world, a third of it spent in sleep and dreaming, another third of it spent in telling lies. "The truth against the world!" - Yes. Certainly. Fiction writers, at least in their braver moments, do desire the truth: to know it, speak it, serve it. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin