Arthur Machen Quotes

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

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

Life, what is it but a dream?

Is Life itself a dream, I wonder?

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

Everything tends to make us believe that there exists a certain point of the mind at which life and death, the real and the imagined, past and future, the communicable and the incommunicable, high and low, cease to be perceived as contradictions.

There is no such thing as death; life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves.

What I want to know is this: Are the stars gold paper or is the gold paper stars?

Everything is only a dream.

The happiness consists in realizing that it is all a great strange dream.

Although the whole of this life were said to be nothing but a dream and the physical world nothing but a phantasm, I should call this dream or phantasm real enough, if, using reason well, we were never deceived by it.

Illusion, Temperament, Succession, Surface, Surprise, Reality, Subjectiveness,--these are the threads on the loom of time, these are the lords of life.

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

Life is but a dream for the dead.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

The world could be anything, you know, It could be a solid state matrix of some sort. It could be an illusion. It could be a dream. I mean it really could be a dream.

There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heavens, then preform a little magic and change reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars and moon.

You are living in a dream of your own creation. Let it be the dream of a lifetime, for that is exactly what it is.

Life is a loom, weaving illusion.

"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."

We wake from one dream into another dream.

Your whole life is nothing but a dream. You live in a fantasy where everything you know about yourself is only true for you. Your truth is not the truth for anyone else.

Life is but a dream, a grotesque and foolish dream.

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

Whenever someone tells me he dreamed, I wonder if he realizes that he has never done anything but dream.