Brian Aldiss Quotes

I never remember my dreams.

I love my sleep.

Dreams should be forgotten when we wake. Or one day we will find ourselves unable to sleep.

In sleep, fantasy takes the form of dreams. But in waking life, too, we continue to dream beneath the threshold of consciousness, especially when under the influence of repressed or other unconscious complexes.

I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire; and after speaking to no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes, with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.

You can't get wise with sleep still in your eyes no matter what your dream might be.

I think walking is very useful, like sleeping and dreaming, as something that's important to my ability to write.

Late at night when all the world is sleeping I stay up and think of you and I wish on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too...Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight 'Til tomorrow I'll be holding you tight! And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.

I've always believed that dreams were both the love letters and the hate mail of the subconscious.

I dreamt that I woke up. It's the oldest dream of all, and I've just had it

Sleep takes off the costume of circumstance, arms us with terrible freedom, so that every will rushes to deed. A skillful man reads his dreams for his self-knowledge; yet not the details, but the quality. What part does he play in them - a cheerful, manly part, or a poor, drivelling part? However monstrous and grotesque their apparitions, they have a substantial truth.

One of the few downsides to being awakened is that we no longer require sleep; therefore we also no longer dream. It's a shame, because if I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.

If he can't sleep, how will he ever dream?

I need to sleep, but fear to dream.

The dream is everything in the sport of fishing. You dream with every cast of your fly that the shadowy form will finally rise to your fly. You dream as you drop off to sleep at night about the lunker that got loose just as you were about to net it.

Floating upward through a confusion of dreams and memory, curving like a trout through the rings of previous risings, I surface. My eyes open. I am awake.

A man who falls straight into bed night after night, and ceases to live until the moment when he wakes and rises, will surely never dream of making, I don't say great discoveries, but even minor observations about sleep. He scarcely knows that he is asleep. A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

I stared into her eyes, wide under the thick fringe of lashes, and yearned for sleep. Not for oblivion, as I had before, not to escape boredom, but because I wanted to *dream*. Maybe, if I could be unconscious, if I could dream, I could live for a few hours in a world where she and I could be together. She dreamed of me. I wanted to dream of her.

Drop dreaming and you are there where you have really been always, but you were never aware. All meditation techniques are just antidream efforts, just dream-negating devices.

A dream is always simmering below the conventional surface of speech and reflection.

The concept of dreaming is known to the waking mind but to the dreamer there is no waking, no real world, no sanity; there is only the screaming bedlam of sleep.

Woman of my dreams, I don’t sleep so I can’t find her

was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?

What is the soul? What color is it? I suspected my soul, being mischievous, might slip away while I was dreaming and fail to return. I did my best not to fall asleep, to keep it inside of me where it belonged.