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The young man's mind was carried away by his growing passion for dreams. One looking at him would not have thought him particularly sharp. With the recollection of little things occupying his mind he closed his eyes and leaned back in the car seat. He stayed that way for a long time and when he aroused himself and again looked out of the car window the town of Winesburg had disappeared and his life there had become but a background on which to paint the dreams of his manhood.
--
"Departure"

 

Sherwood Anderson

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Up and down that road in our worn out shoes.
Talkin' 'bout good things and singin' the blues.
You went your way and I stayed behind.
We both knew it was just a matter of time.
You're liv-in out dreams of you on top.
My mind is achin' and, Lord it won't stop.
That's how it happened livin' life by the drop.

 

Stevie Ray Vaughan

 

I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.

 

Emily Bronte

 

A novel is what you dream in your night sleep. A novel is not waking thoughts although it is written and thought with waking thoughts. But really a novel goes as dreams go in sleeping at night and some dreams are like anything and some dreams are like something and some dreams change and some dreams are quiet and some dreams are not. And some dreams are just what any one would do only a little different always just a little different and that is what a novel is.

 

Gertrude Stein

 

I’ve been walking my mind to an easy time,
My back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows the cold wind blows it’ll turn your head around.
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line,
To talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

 

James Taylor

 

It’s only my town (Chagall was born in Vitebsk, fh), mine, which I have rediscovered. I come back to it with emotion. It was at that time that I painted my Vitebsk series of 1914. (Chagall couldn’t go back to Paris because of the outbreak of the first World War, fh) I painted everything that met my eyes. I painted at my window; I never walked down the street without my box of paint.

 

Marc Chagall