Because it begins to seem to me at such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in real life because it has seemed to me that I have lost all touch all instinct for the actual the real because at last I have cursed myself because after my fantastic nights I have moments of returning sobriety which are awful Meanwhile you hear the whirl and roar of the crowd in the vortex of life around you you hear you see men living in reality you see that life for them is not forbidden that their life does not float away like a dream like a vision that their life is being eternally renewed eternally youthful and not one hour of it is the same as another while fancy is so spiritless monotonous to vulgarity and easily scared the slave of shadows of the idea the slave of the first cloud that shrouds the sun... One feels that this inexhaustible fancy is weary at last and worn out with continual exercise because one is growing into manhood outgrowing ones old ideals they are being shattered into fragments into dust if there is no other life one must build one up from the fragments. And meanwhile the soul longs and craves for something else And in vain the dreamer rakes over his old dreams as though seeking a spark among the embers to fan them into flame to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet that touched his heart that set his blood boiling drew tears from his eyes and so luxuriously deceived him

My prayers my tears my wishes fears and lamentations were witnessed by myself and heaven alone. When we are harassed by sorrows or anxieties or long oppressed by any powerful feelings which we must keep to ourselves for which we can obtain and seek no sympathy from any living creature and which yet we cannot or will not wholly crush we often naturally seek relief in poetryand often find it toowhether in the effusions of others which seem to harmonize with our existing case or in our own attempts to give utterance to those thoughts and feelings in strains less musical perchance but more appropriate and therefore more penetrating and sympathetic and for the time more soothing or more powerful to rouse and to unburden the oppressed and swollen heart.

I didnt feel like buying him the jacket he asked for for Christmas so I just got him a coat hanger with a sticky note attached that read Heres something for you to hang your dreams on pal.

In prayer God doesnt guarantee the answer you want but He does guarantee the answer you need.

Seriously a thirty-something woman shouldnt be daydreaming about a fictional character in a two-hundred-year-old world to the point where it interfered with her very real and much more important life and relationships. Of course she shouldnt.

A daily dose of daydreaming heals the heart soothes the soul and strengthens the imagination.

That she said is a little closer to how I imagine it works. Whether or not you pray has absolutely nothing to do with the person to your left. Its like saying you shouldnt get the moon in your window or else the other cars wouldnt get the moon in their windows. But everyone gets the moon. Its not an option to not have the moon in your window. You just see it. Its there.She bit her lip. The window in the office grew golden with late afternoon.Half the world cant see the moon said the doctor.Its not the greatest example said the rabbi.

She is free in her wildness she is a wanderess a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. Time for her isnt something to fight against. Her life flows clean with passion like fresh water.

All I daresay at this point is pray on it and pray hard. Then wait and listen for Gods answer. Ive learned in my years of living not to be impatient for answers when I pray. They dont come lickity-split.

Dreams are manifestations of identities.