“When I dream, I dream of him. For several nights now he’s come to me, waving from a distant shore as if he’s been waiting patiently for me to arrive. He doesn’t utter a word, but his smile says everything: I’ve missed you.”

— Libba Bray , book The Sweet Far Thing

Source: The Sweet Far Thing

Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Libba Bray 254

American teen writer 1964

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“I don’t know why he said that. Maybe he wanted to be in the paper? Maybe he doesn’t understand what I do? It’s bizarre to me that he says he doesn’t know who I am because he’s dressed me in the past. I’ve worn Karl Lagerfeld. Not even Chanel—his line. Lagerfeld doesn’t just send random things everywhere, so it was a big thing for me [to wear his label] to the CFDA Awards a few years ago. I don’t know how he missed that, when he dressed me that time. But you know, it’s cool. People can say whatever they want to say. You can’t please everybody, and you can’t live your life wanting to please everybody either.”

Heidi Klum (1973) German model, television host, businesswoman, fashion designer, television producer, and actress

Responding to Karl Lagerfeld's insult that Heidi Klum is unknown in the high fashion world. Quoted in Page Six Magazine, 10 September 2009 http://www.imnotobsessed.com/2009/09/08/heidi-klum-for-page-six-magazine.

“Now this error in attitude — mistaking these men for boys — permeates the whole scholastic domain, permeates it so thoroughly that it is hard for anyone within the domain to recognize it.
What do I mean by saying that a man is treated as a boy? I mean that he is told, the moment he arrives, that his secret dream of greatness is a pipe-dream; that it will be a long time before he makes a significant, personal contribution — if ever.
He is told this not with words. He is told this in a much more convincing way. He is shown, in everything that happens to him, that nobody could dream that he could make a significant, personal contribution.”

Edwin H. Land (1909–1991) American scientist and inventor

Generation of Greatness (1957)

“I think he’s crude, I think he’s medieval, and I don’t want an elderly gentleman from Vienna with an umbrella inflicting his dreams upon me. I don’t have the dreams that he discusses in his books. I don’t see umbrellas in my dreams. Or balloons.”

Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977) Russian-American novelist, lepidopterist, professor

On Sigmund Freud, as quoted in Sigmund Says: And Other Psychotherapists' Quotes (2006) edited by Bernard Nisenholz, p. 6 ISBN 0595396593

““I have been waiting for a sign. I knew that if I waited here long enough my bird, that tarishawk that rests here each day, I knew that he would come. Our Mother said that if he flew from the right, then I would have good fortune. If he came from the left, my journey would be disastrous for me, and it would bear no positive fruits for you.”
“And the hawk? Which way did it come? Did it come from the left?”
Dore smiled once more; his smile was always the most cheerless aspect of him. “The hawk has not come at all,” he said.”

George Alec Effinger (1947–2002) Novelist, short story writer

Source: What Entropy Means to Me (1972), Chapter 1 “Prelude to...Danger!” (p. 19).

“That’s the last time you’re going to kiss me,” I warned when it ended.
He smiled knowingly, and in his eyes, I could see his own memories of that night. “So you say.”

Richelle Mead (1976) American writer

Source: Storm Born

“For tho' I know he loves me,
To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.”

Sara Teasdale The Kiss

"The Kiss"
Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911)

“Antonio dreams of owning the land he works on, he dreams that his sweat is paid for with justice and truth, he dreams that there is a school to cure ignorance and medicine to scare away death, he dreams of having electricity in his home and that his table is full, he dreams that his country is free and that this is the result of its people governing themselves, and he dreams that he is at peace with himself and with the world. He dreams that he must fight to obtain this dream, he dreams that there must be death in order to gain life. Antonio dreams and then he awakens…. Now he knows what to do and he sees his wife crouching by the fire, hears his son crying. He looks at the sun rising in the East, and, smiling, grabs his machete. The wind picks up, he rises and walks to meet others. Something has told him that his dream is that of many and he goes to find them.”

Subcomandante Marcos (1957) Mexican activist

" Chiapas: The Southeast in Two Winds http://struggle.ws/mexico/ezln/marcos_se_2_wind.html" (August 1992)

“And what happens then?
When?
After you're dead.
Dont nothing happen. You're dead.
You told me once you believed in God.
The old man waved his hand. Maybe, he said. I got no reason to think he believes in me. Oh I'd like to see him for a minute if I could.
What would you say to him?
Well, I think I'd just tell him. I'd say: Wait a minute. Wait just one minute before you start in on me. Before you say anything, there's just one thing I'd like to know. And he'll say: what's that? And then I'm goin to ast him: What did you have me in that crapgame down there for anyway? I couldnt put any part of it together.
Suttree smiled. What do you think he'll say?
The ragpicker spat and wiped his mouth. I dont believe he can answer it. I dont believe there is an answer.”

Cormac McCarthy book Suttree

page 258
Suttree (1979)

“p>Fierce and gentle,
Loud and silent,
The river doesn't understand itself.
The wave doesn't find itself, until it reaches the sea.Oh the wave passes,
And the waves to come will be the same.
Hunger for love
Is strong in the heart.Standing before the waves,
I think of you and me.
I think of the great sea
And I wonder where the waves come from.The waves must come from the wind.
And I wonder where the wind comes from,
And I wonder
When will we love each other again?The waves deep in the sea
And the waves on the sea's surface
Long for the shore of the sea.
Day and night the waves cannot sleep
As I can not sleep, even in dreams,
Because of my longing for you.When I go to the North,
Or to the South,
When I go anywhere, I think of you,
My only direction.Out in the great sea
Thousands of waves are pushing,
Which one never reachs the shore
Even miles and miles from home?Life is so long;
Years and months go by.
Like the sea, life is endless.
Clouds fly to the distant horizon.How can I become
Like the hundreds of thousands of small waves
In the great sea of love
And lap forever against your shore?”

Xuân Quỳnh (1942–1988) poet

"Sóng" (29-12-1967)

“Man, you weigh a freaking ton," he told me. "What've you been eating, rocks?"
"Why, is your head missing some?" I croaked. His mouth almost quirked in a smile, and that's when I knew how upset he'd been”

James Patterson (1947) American author

Source: The Angel Experiment

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