the sleeper must awaken

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

A man, whilst he is dreaming, believes in his dream; he is undeceived only when he is awakened from his slumber.

THE DREAM THAT MUST BE INTERPRETED

This place is a dream.
Only a sleeper considers it real.

Then death comes like dawn,
and you wake up laughing
at what you thought was your grief.

But there's a difference with this dream.
Everything cruel and unconscious
done in the illusion of the present world,
all that does not fade away at the death-waking.

It stays,
and it must be interpreted.

All the mean laughing,
all the quick, sexual wanting,
those torn coats of Joseph,
they change into powerful wolves
that you must face.

The retaliation that sometimes comes now,
the swift, payback hit,
is just a boy's game
to what the other will be.

You know about circumcision here.
It's full castration there!

And this groggy time we live,
this is what it's like:

A man goes to sleep in the town
where he has always lived, and he dreams he's living
in another town.

In the dream, he doesn't remember
the town he's sleeping in his bed in. He believes
the reality of the dream town.

The world is that kind of sleep.

The dust of many crumbled cities
settles over us like a forgetful doze,
but we are older than those cities.

We began
as a mineral. We emerged into plant life
and into animal state, and then into being human,
and always we have forgotten our former states,
except in early spring when we slightly recall
being green again.
That's how a young person turns
toward a teacher. That's how a baby leans
toward the breast, without knowing the secret
of its desire, yet turning instinctively.

Humankind is being led along an evolving course,
through this migration of intelligences,
and though we seem to be sleeping,
there is an inner wakefulness
that directs the dream,

and that will eventually startle us back
to the truth of who we are.

Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep - He hath awakened from the dream of life

In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed — But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me
broken-hearted.

...an irresistible sleep fell deeply on his eyes, the sweetest, soundest oblivion, still as the sleep of death itself...

He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

The integrity of my sleep has been forever compromised, sir.

People who are most afraid of their dreams convince themselves they don't dream at all.

By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

What destroys the dream? What destroys it, eh?..........Disappointment. Disappointment. Disappointment.

Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams,
And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away.

There are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely.