All of us have failed to match our dream of perfection. I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible. If I could write all my work again Im convinced I could do it better. This is the healthiest condition for an artist. Thats why he keeps working trying again he believes each time that this time he will do it bring it off. Of course he wont.

I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lees life of the poet. She died young--alas she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the crossroads still lives. She lives in you and in me and in many other women who are not here tonight for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives for great poets do not die they are continuing presences they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh.

I really like it when a bad dream doesnt scare you...it inspires you instead.

I had a dream about you. The ice melted so quickly in our relationship that I didnt even have a chance to tell you I loved you. So I just sat there alone slurping up what was left of us in a straw.

I had a dream about you. No words were exchanged but we spoke with our eyes. My eyes said I love you while your eyes told me Im asleep. You always were more romantic than me.

I had a dream about you. You were the lead guitarist in a band with no voice and you were holding auditions for lead singer. Everybody in line in front of me and behind me was a mime so I felt confident Id get the gig. I felt my performance was excellent like Axl Rose meets Rosie ODonnell but no you felt a person who sings in silence would make a better front man for your band.

Shed slept terribly the night before. The room the bed were both comfortable enough but shed been plagued with strange dreams the sort that lingered upon waking but slithered away from memory as she tried to grasp them. Only the tendrils of discomfort remained.

Because when everyone dreams but only a few realize their dreams that makes cowards of us all.

The secret code of success is patiencea virtue that can not be replaced. It takes time to build great dreams.

Hold fast to dreamsfor if dreams dielife is a broken-winged birdthat can not fly.Hold fast to dreamsfor when dreams golife is a barren fieldfrozen with snow.