T. S. Eliot Quotes

Romantic comedies are there to give us dreams and butterflies, but what we can create in our own lives could be not only better but real.

Perhaps life is just that... a dream and a fear.

Where all is but dream, reasoning and arguments are of no use, truth and knowledge nothing.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

Only in books the flat and final happens, Only in dreams we meet and interlock.

Life is sentimental. Why should I be cold and hard about it? That's the main content. The biggest thing in people's lives is their loves and dreams and visions, you know.

Sometimes I do wake up in the mornings and feel like I've just had the most incredible dream. I've just dreamt my life

All life is a dream, and all dreams are dreams.

Strange to dream in the right shape and build in the wrong shape, but maybe that is what we do every day, never believing that a dream could tell the truth.

Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange.

"Well, it's no use your talking about waking him," said Tweedledum, "when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

There are two kinds of world: the one we dream about and the real one.

Hold on to your dreams for they are, in a sense, the stuff of which reality is made. It is through our dreams that we maintain the possibility of a better, more meaningful life.

Sometimes you wake up from a dream. Sometimes you wake up in a dream. And sometimes, every once in a while, you wake up in someone else's dream.

Brooklyn was a dream. All the things that happened there just couldn't happen. It was all dream stuff. Or was it all real and true and was it that she, Francie, was the dreamer?

It’s so real." "Most dreams are. It isn't until you wake up that you see all the plot holes.

Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore.

Dreams have only the pigmentation of fact.

Life is only a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves.

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.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

For all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams.

Pretending that we live doesn't make us alive.