Werner Herzog Quotes

An ocean without unnamed monsters would be like sleep without dreams.

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

There's something about shadows because you make your own mind up about what's lurking in them.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

I'm terrified of the ocean. I think it's beautiful and magical, but I never go in. That deep, dark water, with no understanding of what goes on behind it - I think that's a metaphor for a lot of things.

Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

I know little of women. But I've heard dread tales.

To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.

Some of my songs are like dreams, and when you go to sleep at night you don't know if you're gonna have a dream or what you're gonna dream about.

You're afraid of imagination and even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the resposibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep and dreams are a part of sleep. When you're awake you can suppress imagination but you can't supress dreams.

Don't open that door," she said. "The hallway is full of difficult dreams." And I asked her: "How do you know?" And she told me: "Because I was there a moment ago and I had to come back when I discovered I was sleeping on my heart.

From a good book, I want to be taken to the very edge. I want a glimpse into that outer darkness.

The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown.

Darkness is full of possibility.

I've always had this in a kind of worst-case dark imagination. I want to know what the dark form in the window is. I want to know what the noise under the staircase is.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

I always felt that what is scary is actually hearing someone tell you what they think they see. That sense of invisibility makes things a lot scarier, since your imagination tends to fill in the gaps.

This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?

To gaze into the depths of the sea is, in the imagination, like beholding the vast unknown, and from its most terrible point of view. The submarine gulf is analogous to the realm of night and dreams. There also is sleep, unconsciousness, or at least apparent unconsciousness, of creation. There in the awful silence and darkness, the rude first forms of life, phantomlike, demoniacal, pursue their horrible instincts.

Between the dreams of night and day there is not so great a difference.

There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination; where there is no imagination there is no horror.

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause, there's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life

After I went to bed I had a curious fancy as to dreams. In sleep the doors of the mind are shut, and thoughts come jumping in at the windows. They tumble headlong, and therefore are so disorderly and strange. Sometimes they are stout and light on their feet, and then they are rational dreams.

In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day's caravan.

Sleeping we imagine what awake we wish; D ogs dream of bones, and fishermen of fish.