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Daydream Quotes

Browse 46 quotes about Daydream.

Daydream Quotes

“Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky." Excerpt from Grace Willow's Last Minute Bride”

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Author:Grace Willows
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“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees Excerpt from To Kiss a King by Grace Willows Coming this summer to Amazon Kindle and paperback.”

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Book:To Kiss a King
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“A person experiments in life and reflects upon those events in order to discover how to lead a meaningful life. We conduct a quest searching for the source our essential being. What we seek is inside us waiting for us to discover. Until we realize the vital inner source that provides direction for our life, all our efforts are in vain. The ego with its craving and fearful protection strategies is what prevents us from perceiving the transparency of the world in which we belong. When we cease clinging to the past and no longer daydream of the future and unreservedly accept whatever is occurring while sacrificing ourselves in service of other people our sense of self vanishes and we exist only as conscious and nonjudgmental witnesses of reality.”

PastDesireEgoEnlightenmentMeaningfulBlissEnlightenment QuotesMeaningful LifeDesire QuotesEnlightenment PrinciplesDaydreamBliss QuotesMeaningful LivingBlissful StateBlissful HeartBlissful Journey
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
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“Don't drive a car in the dream, else you won't drive it on earth. Don't wish to become, else you won't become. Don't associate with fools, else your ancestors will be insulted. Don't be addicted to wine, else your pocket will be empty. Don't be drunk, else you'll be attacked.”

WisdomDreamLife LessonsWorkPovertyWiseAchieveFriendsDrinkFameIllusionPerfectionEmptyExperienceWineDrinkingAddictionFood For ThoughtDrivingDrunkAssociationDreamingAddictAttackingWorkingFriendshipsDriveMichael Bassey JohnsonAchievementsAncestorsTranceFoolsAttackCraftyDaydreamEmpty PocketsDrunkardPauper
Author:Michael Bassey Johnson
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“Believe in Yourself Why must we see something to believe in its existence?The wind itself cannot be seen by man, but all have felt it's gentle touch and watched the mighty trees bow as it swept past. We cannot see love yet its nurturing warmth is the essence of our being and sorrow can touch our very soul. For remorse is like a ripple on the ocean, once given it remains only in the heart of the receiver. Yet all of these cannot be seen only felt. Why then do you doubt your self-worth? For though it cannot cast a reflection in the mirror you have only to look in the eyes of those you love to See it clearly. Prologue To Kiss a King To Kiss a King Copyright © 2017 by Julie Brookshier and Robin Woods All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in whole or in part in any form is forbidden without written permission of one or more of the authors. This is a fictional work. Names, characters, places, and events are merely the product of the authors' imaginations or used fictitiously, purely for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or undead or any business establishments, events or places past, present, or future, is entirely coincidental.”

LoveHeartRomancePassionBeliefRegretDramaTerrorSexySuspensePlotLove At First SightHeart QuotesRomantic SuspenseEroticSoul SearchingKingFiction NovelSoul MatesAssassinationQueenRomantic QuotesPsychoticSelf Esteem QuotesPrinceKillerEbookDaydreamSelf Worth And LoveAssassination PlotRomantic NovelGrace WillowsBelieve In Your SelfSoul Searching Quotes
Book:To Kiss a King
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“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

LoveRomanceDesirePassionHopeFunSexFearMemoriesMarriageComedyDangerBooksAdventureLoversDramaSurvivalRomanticMurderHotLongingPassionateTerrorScarySexyBetrayalRevengeDeceptionLife ChangingChoiceSunsetRescueLove At First SightTimelessRoyalEverlastingEroticRoyaltyProposalSoul SearchingKingExoticAmourSoul MateAlpha MaleQueenGunsPsychoticPrinceForever LoveKillerAlphaDaydreamPalaceDaydreamsE BookDeceiptHot Intrigue
Book:To Kiss a King
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“Whenever He answers prayers, God usually prioritizes those by people who, instead of their mouths, have prayed with their hands and/or feet.”

GodHumorHandsActionFunnyReligionQuotesWishChurchPrayerFateFeetAtheismHumourArmsPrayingWorshipJokesHumorousAtheistLegsBelieverKarmaSatirePrayAphorismQuotationsJokeGodsHilariousActPaganAphorismsPrayersWishful ThinkingDoersCongregationDoBelieversPrioritizeHandPrioritySynagogueReligionsAphoristAphoristsWorshippersAtheistsChurchesDaydreamDoerArmFootNonbelieverNonbelieversPraying WomanLegPrayedSynagoguesCongregationsDaydreamerWorshipersWorshipperPraying WomenWorshiperDaydreamersChurchgoerChurchgoersPraying ManPraying Men
Author:Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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“Everybody knows deep down that life is as much about the things that do not happen as the things that do and that's not something that ought to be glossed over or denied because without frustration there would hardly be any need to daydream. And daydreams return me to my original sense of things and I luxuriate in these fervid primary visions until I am entirely my unalloyed self again. So even though it sometimes feels as if one could just about die from disappointment I must concede that in fact in a rather perverse way it is precisely those things I did not get that are keeping me alive.”

SelfFrustrationDaydream
Book:Pond
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“She was a ray of sunshine, a warm summer rain, a bright fire on a cold winter’s day, and now she could be dead because she had tried to save the man she loved.”

MenLoveRomanceDesireFaithPassionHopeFunSexFearMemoriesMarriageFireComedyGraceSacrificeMysteryDangerBooksAdventureLoversDramaSurvivalRomanticMurderHotLongingPassionateTerrorScarySexyBetrayalRevengeLoyaltyDeceptionSuspenseLife ChangingChoiceSunsetDeceitRescueLove At First SightTimelessRoyalEverlastingEroticRoyaltyProposalSoul SearchingAdventurousKingExoticAmourSoul MateAlpha MaleQueenGunsPsychoticPrinceForever LoveKillerAlphaBrightEbooksAssassinSaloonsDaydreamUltimate LoveRomantic FictionPalaceDaydreamsE BookGrace WillowsHot IntrigueGiving All
Author:Grace Willows
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“A Churchyard In Summertime by Stewart Stafford O, to stand in a quiet country churchyard, The graveyard bending in summer zephyrs, Chlorophyll light beneath swaying poplars, Rook song in twilight's nocturne. Oblivious hues spread upon canvas, Beside the somnambulant swanning river, Miasmas of midges at the water's edge, In the crosshairs of a painter's thumb. Then the sun rolls away over the horizon, A veil draws across the long day's play, A churn supper collection of basket and easel, Recollections in the slumbering night. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“What a strange thing it is to wake up to a milk-white overcast June morning! The sun is hidden by a thick cotton blanket of clouds, and the air is vapor-filled and hazy with a concentration of blooming scent. The world is somnolent and cool, in a temporary reprieve from the normal heat and radiance. But the sensation of illusion is strong. Because the sun can break through the clouds at any moment . . . What a soft thoughtful time. In this illusory gloom, like a night-blooming flower, let your imagination bloom in a riot of color.”

ImaginationVisionAirColorSummerIllusionCloudsScentJuneRiotGloomIllusoryBloomingBloomCoolCloudyVaporHazeCloudDaydreamOvercast
Book:The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration
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“It was the world-without-adults daydream. In my dream I'd never quite figured out where the adults went but we kids were free to roam, to help ourselves to anything we wanted. We'd pick up a Merc from a showroom when we wanted wheels, and when it ran out of petrol we'd get another one. We'd change cars the way I change socks. We'd sleep in different mansions every night, going to new houses instead of putting new sheets on the beds. Life would be one long party. Yes, that had been the dream.”

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Book:The Dead of Night
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“I am at the concert and I am smirking in the corner, ignoring what my peers are discussing. Let us picture something good. I'm wearing a level-two bulletproof vest under my Ralph Lauren vintage flannel, and already it's almost entirely concealed. Makes me look slightly more built, nobody's complaining. It also protects against nine millimeter and forty caliber rounds, the only kinds police use anymore. I think. Over that, a Swiss military jacket littered with pockets, all of which I custom fit to hold the six magazines accompanying my short barrel rifle. It's a gun small enough to fit perfectly along my back while still under my coat. In the pockets of my Levi five-elevens - a switchblade and one smoke grenade, reserved for either my entrance or exit. I still haven't decided. In my waistband is a... ... and then two squad cars skid to a halt outside. I see them before they see me, as the front windows are tinted in my favor. With a fresh magazine, I am and shoot at - "HEY!" Someone shouting playfully in my face has yanked me back into the concert hall”

EdgyDaydreamSocial Violence
Book:Harassment Architecture
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“For Jenn At 12 years old I started bleeding with the moon and beating up boys who dreamed of becoming astronauts. I fought with my knuckles white as stars, and left bruises the shape of Salem. There are things we know by heart, and things we don't. At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke. I'd watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos, but I could never make dying beautiful. The sky didn't fill with colors the night I convinced myself veins are kite strings you can only cut free. I suppose I love this life, in spite of my clenched fist. I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree, and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers, and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe. But my lungs remember the day my mother took my hand and placed it on her belly and told me the symphony beneath was my baby sister's heartbeat. And I knew life would tremble like the first tear on a prison guard's hardened cheek, like a prayer on a dying man's lips, like a vet holding a full bottle of whisky like an empty gun in a war zone… just take me just take me Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much, the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood. We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday. You still have to fall for the prettiest girl on the playground at recess and hope she knows you can hit a baseball further than any boy in the whole third grade and I've been running for home through the windpipe of a man who sings while his hands playing washboard with a spoon on a street corner in New Orleans where every boarded up window is still painted with the words We're Coming Back like a promise to the ocean that we will always keep moving towards the music, the way Basquait slept in a cardboard box to be closer to the rain. Beauty, catch me on your tongue. Thunder, clap us open. The pupils in our eyes were not born to hide beneath their desks. Tonight lay us down to rest in the Arizona desert, then wake us washing the feet of pregnant women who climbed across the border with their bellies aimed towards the sun. I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun. I know the heartbeat of his mother. Don't cover your ears, Love. Don't cover your ears, Life. There is a boy writing poems in Central Park and as he writes he moves and his bones become the bars of Mandela's jail cell stretching apart, and there are men playing chess in the December cold who can't tell if the breath rising from the board is their opponents or their own, and there's a woman on the stairwell of the subway swearing she can hear Niagara Falls from her rooftop in Brooklyn, and I'm remembering how Niagara Falls is a city overrun with strip malls and traffic and vendors and one incredibly brave river that makes it all worth it. Ya'll, I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that brave river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.”

LifeDreamDaydream
Author:Andrea Gibson
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“Do you dare dismiss the poetess; Fuck up her mind with your toxic kiss? Do you dare hide the razors and knives to bore her with your shallow dives? Do you dare dream of a grand vacation fucking your side chick at the Days Inn? Do you dare ask to have your glass refilled after ordering the hit for her spirit killed? Do you dare daydream of a life so fair while making hers a waking nightmare? Do you dare not answer, darling? Do you not hear Karma calling...”

PoetryKarmaNightmareDelusionalDouble StandardsGaslightingDaydreamPoetessPunk PoetryIndie Poetry
Book:Not Your Kind: The Gaslit Files
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