“Instead of looking for the dream in reverie, people should look for reverie in the dream. There are calm beaches in the midst of nightmares.”

Why should the actions of the imagination not be as real as those of perception?

Any comparison diminishes the expressive qualities of the terms of the comparison.

We are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.

If we did not have a feminine being within us, how would we rest ourselves?

The subconscious is ceaselessly murmuring, and it is by listening to these murmurs that one hears its truth.

The cleverer I am at miniaturizing the world, the better I possess it.

A word is a bud attempting to become a twig. How can one not dream while writing? It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream.

The reverie would not last if it were not nourished by the images of the sweetness of living, by the illusions of happiness.

Nobody knows that in reading we are re-living our temptations to be a poet. All readers who have a certain passion for reading, nurture and repress, through reading, the desire to become a writer.

Reverie is not a mind vacuum. It is rather the gift of an hour which knows the plenitude of the soul.

If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.

At all times and in all fields the explanation by fire is a rich explanation.

When we are children, people show us so many things that we lose the profound sense of seeing… And just how could adults show us the world they have lost! They know; they think they know; they say they know.

So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.

What is the source of our first suffering? It lies in the fact that we hesitated to speak… It was born in the moment when we accumulated silent things within us.

Love is never finished expressing itself, and it expresses itself better the more poetically it is dreamed.

To exclude anything that appears in your universe is not love. Love joins with everything. It doesn’t exclude the monster. It doesn’t avoid the nightmare – it looks forward to it.

I am quite an early riser – I usually get up between 5.30 and 6am and take the dogs out.

I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 18 The first time was a nightmare. Who shows you how to use a condom?

I woke up once in the middle of the night, and Buckminster’s paws were on my eyelids. He must have been feeling my nightmares.

I am held in the arms of butterflies like kids who have to find a monster in their nightmare before they can return back to a dreamy state of love.

I’m every bourgeois nightmare – a Cockney with intelligence and a million dollars.

Turn your nightmares into your dreams , some dreams don’t turn out the way you want them to , then wake up and turn and turn it around in your favour.

Protect your dreams from your nightmare.