“We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”

“We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.”

“May we not imagine that possibly this earthly life of ours is to the other life what sleeping is to waking? May not all our life be a dream and death an awakening? But an awakening to what? And supposing that everything is but the dream of God and that God one day will awaken? Will He remember His dream?”

“Maybe what we take to be real is just a dream and the dream is the real reality of life. Who dreams while we sleep?”

“Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night.
Sleep, sleep: in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.”

“We dream our dream alone with no resistance / Fading like the stars we wish to be
True perfection has to be imperfect
My God woke up on the wrong side of his bed
Little by little / We gave you everything you ever dreamed of / And little by little / the wheels of your life have slowly fallen off”

“Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause, there's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life”

“We men of study, whose heads are in our books, have need to be straightly looked after! We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.”

“You are all just perfect little satellites
Spinning round and round this broken Earthy life”

“A novel is what you dream in your night sleep. A novel is not waking thoughts although it is written and thought with waking thoughts. But really a novel goes as dreams go in sleeping at night and some dreams are like anything and some dreams are like something and some dreams change and some dreams are quiet and some dreams are not. And some dreams are just what any one would do only a little different always just a little different and that is what a novel is.”