“I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away”
Conor Oberst (1980) American musician
If The Brakeman turns my way
Cassadaga (2007)
The Inferno (1917), Ch. XVI
Context: I went out on the street like an exile, I who am an everyday man, who resemble everybody else so much, too much. I went through the streets and crossed the squares with my eyes fixed upon things without seeing them. I was walking, but I seemed to be falling from dream to dream, from desire to desire. A door ajar, an open window gave me a pang. A woman passing by grazed against me, a woman who told me nothing of what she might have told me. I dreamed of her tragedy and of mine. She entered a house, she disappeared, she was dead.
“I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away”
Conor Oberst (1980) American musician
If The Brakeman turns my way
Cassadaga (2007)
Cyrano de Bergerac (1619–1655) French novelist, dramatist, scientist and duelist
Elijah to Cyrano
The Other World (1657)
Context: The angel had told me in my dream that if I wanted to acquire the perfect knowledge I desired, I would have to go to the Moon. There I would find Adam's paradise and the Tree of Knowledge. As soon as I had tasted its fruit, my mind would be enlightened with all the truths a person could know. That is the voyage for which I built my chariot.
Finally, I climbed aboard and, when I was securely settled on the seat, I tossed the magnetic ball high into the air. The chariot I had built was more massive in the middle than at the ends; it was perfectly balanced because the middle rose faster than the extremities. When I had risen to the point that the magnet was drawing me to, I seized the magnetic ball and tossed it into the air again.
Pete Doherty (1979) English musician, writer, actor, poet and artist
"Loyalty Song"
Lyrics and poetry
Henri Barbusse (1873–1935) French novelist
Light (1919), Ch. XXIII - Face To Face
Context: Against the window's still pallid sky I see her hair, silvered with a moonlike sheen, and her night-veiled face. Closely I look at the share of sublimity which she bears on it, and I reflect that I am infinitely attached to this woman, that it is not true to say she is of less moment to me because desire no longer throws me on her as it used to do. Is it habit? No, not only that. Everywhere habit exerts its gentle strength, perhaps between us two also. But there is more. There is not only the narrowness of rooms to bring us together. There is more, there is more! So I say to her:
"There's you."
"Me?" she says. "I'm nothing."
"Yes, you are everything, you're everything to me."
“Let me have my dreams but not what I dream of.”
James Richardson (1950) American poet
#197
Vectors: Aphorisms and Ten Second Essays (2001)