Sometimes we feel conscious but unable to move our body. The first thing to do is focus in a prayer then start to wink frequently.By this way slowly but sure our body can be moved totally by our persistent willpower.

Dreams are what keep us growing. They are what keep us alive. To give up is to let our dreams die.

God instituted prayer to communicate to creatures the dignity of causality.

Can you hear the dreams crackling like a campfire Can you hear the dreams sweeping through the pine trees and tipis Can you hear the dreams laughing in the sawdust Can you hear the dreams shaking just a little bit as the day grows long Can you hear the dreams putting on a good jacket that smells of fry bread and sweet smoke Can you hear the dreams stay up late and talk so many stories

I had a dream about you. We were ice fishing in my freezer. I caught a few cold beers and you wondered if we should drink them or throw them back because they were babies.

In books I have traveled not only to other worlds but into my own. I learned who I was and who I wanted to be what I might aspire to and what I might dare to dream about my world and myself. More powerfully and persuasively than from the shalt nots of the Ten Commandments I learned the difference between good and evil right and wrong. A Wrinkle in Time described that evil that wrong existing in a different dimension from our own. But I felt that I too existed much of the time in a different dimension from everyone else I knew. There was waking and there was sleeping. And then there were books a kind of parallel universe in which anything might happen and frequently did a universe in which I might be a newcomer but was never really a stranger. My real true world. My perfect island.

I dont pray because it makes sense to pray. I pray because my life doesnt make sense without prayer.

Amory sorry for them was still not sorry for himself - art politics religion whatever his medium should be he knew he was safe now free from all hysteria - he could accept what was acceptable roam grow rebel sleep deep through many nights...There was no God in his heart he knew his ideas were still in riot there was ever the pain of memory the regret for his lost youth - yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul responsibility and a love of life the faint stirring of old ambitions and unrealized dreams...And he could not tell why the struggle was worth while why he had determined to use to the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed...He stretched out his arms to the crystalline radiant sky.I know myself he cried but that is all.

On DreamsOnly one thing supersedes the importance of thinking about a better tomorrow. Its taking action today.