A premium site with thousands of quotes
For all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.
For even in dreams a good deed is not lost.
And yet, and yet, in these our ghostly lives, Half night, half day, half sleeping, half awake, How if our waking life, like that of sleep, Be all a dream in that eternal life To which we wake not till we sleep in death
Light-enchanted sunflower, thou _x000D_ Who gazest ever true and tender _x000D_ On the sun's revolving splendour.
But whether it be dream or truth, to do well is what matters. If it be truth, for truth's sake. If not, then to gain friends for the time when we awaken.
Tis not where we lie but whence we fell; the loss of Heaven's the greatest pain in Hell.
One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it.
These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.
A good action is never lost; it is a treasure laid up and guarded for the doer's need.
When love is not madness, it is not love.
Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.
What law, what reason can deny that gift so sweet, so natural that God has given a stream, a fish, a beast, a bird?
What is life? A madness. What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story. And the greatest good is little enough: for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.
Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul Yet uncorrected of the higher will, So that men sometimes in their dreams confess An unsuspected, or forgotten, self; -Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin In missing each that salutory rein Of reason, and the grinding will of man.
In this treacherous world Nothing is the truth nor a lie. Everything depends on the color Of the crystal through which one sees it
Subscribe and get notification from us