Best 105 quotes in «daydreaming quotes» category

It's true that I tend to daydream. I'm the same person in business as I am in music: I can be distracted and absentminded. It's my style.

It's more like I was daydreaming when the Supreme Being told me what I should do with my life, and it's too late to ask what it was.

I used to work in a factory and I was really happy because I could daydream all day.

Our actions are all that separate our daydreams from our goals.

I was always daydreaming about singing in big productions on Broadway.

I wasn't dyslexic, I was just very slow. I passed my time daydreaming.

Musing on the phrase 'waste of time.' So much more complex than it appears. Many 'wastes of time' small talk, daydreaming are imperatives.

We dare not think that God is absent or daydreaming. The do nothing God...He's not tucked away in some far corner of the universe, uncaring, unfeeling, unthinking, uninvolved. Count on it, God intrudes in glorious and myriad ways.

There was always a unique Beirut sound, it was always there, and so this time I just dove straight into that, instead of daydreaming and wandering.

Prepare while others are daydreaming.

She [my mother] gave me permission to wonder, to dawdle, to daydream.

The real thing, when done right , is always better than a daydream

The very things I used to be told off for - daydreaming, exaggerating, making mistakes, wild guessing, contradicting, spying, being obsessive, being reckless - for these, suddenly, I am being praised.

Vision without execution is daydreaming.

You collect impressions from people, from life, from your own daydreams.

When I played pool I was like a good psychiatrist. I cured em of all their daydreams and delusions.

When you're drawing comics, you get very involved in how the story is going to develop and you spend more time daydreaming on that particular subject.

Will you gather daydreams or will you gather wealth? How can you find your fortune when you cannot find yourself?

A fleeting second on someone's news feed, No dearth of meanings for those who read, Not my stories but 'tis what I think, I say I don't write poems, I just write dreams.

A certain amount of reverie is good, like a narcotic in discreet doses. It soothes the fever, occasionally high, of the brain at work, and produces in the mind a soft, fresh vapor that corrects the all too angular contours of pure thought, fills up the gaps and intervals here and there, binds them together, and dulls the sharp corners of ideas. But too much reverie submerges and drowns. Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie it's pleasure. To replace thought with reverie is to confound poison with nourishment.

And the man who dreamt of flight has tripped and fallen in a hole.

(Dreams drain the spirit if we dream too long.)

...and when he dies, cut him out in little stars, and the face of heaven will be so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no heed to the garish sun.

But I look up above and see the sky With the moon and stars capturing my eye I know that you can see it too Cuz no matter where you are the sky remains true

Being crazy, for the rest of us, is a form of sanity.

-Disculpe -le dijo él-. ¿Puede ayudarme? Me parece que me he perdido. Ella se sobresaltó. El hombre se encontraba medio en sombras, al lado de la portezuela abierta de su coche. -¿Eh...? -¿La he asustado? -preguntó. -No, no, en absoluto... -Perdone si... -No, no pasa nada. Es que venía pensando. -¿Tenía la mente en otra parte? -Eso es. -Conozco esa sensación -dijo el hombre, acercándose a ella-. Un pensamiento lleva a otro, después a otro, y antes de que uno se dé cuenta está a la mitad de una pequeña ensoñación. Perdone que me entrometa. -La realidad -puntualizó ella- siempre se entromete. Él rió.

Her legs swing complete afternoons away.

Every Daydream-hope starts with little incentives !

Give God a break: work for what you are praying for.

He raised a hand in response and tossed the ear of corn into the wagon. Then he returned to his fantasy, imagining himself running the livery instead of working there, making the decisions, placing orders, selecting new horses, agreeing to board others, and hiring a boy to muck out the stalls and pitch hay. In his daydream, he no longer lived in the back room. He came home at night to a small house he’d bought with his earnings. Inside, a woman waited for him. A wife. In his fantasy her hair was as golden as the ear of corn he tossed into the wagon and her eyes as blue as the cloudless sky overhead. Catherine smiled at him and he could hear as well as see her say his name. “Jim! Welcome home.

En medio de una conversación, aún en medio de una frase, mi mente se divorcia de la realidad y se va por su cuenta tras una palabra, un perfume, una visión, y con mucha frecuencia crea irrealidades absurdas.

I love letting my soul soar on a summer breeze, or getting entranced by the rhythm of the sea. It carries you off on its currents until you’re completely lost and then drops you back on the shores of reality with salt on your cheeks and grains of dreams running through your fingers like sand. It’s almost an occasional necessity – I guess because when you get completely, fantastically, dizzyingly lost you’re temporarily suspended between what has been and what could be. In those first moments when you come back up for air, or when you float back down to the ground, you’re living in the land of possibility, where you understand that reality can stretch just as far as you’re willing to dream.

Honesty can sometimes be so brutal to take in. It's usual to get so drowned in perceived idealism that you can't seem to separate it from honest reality. If, and when, you can separate the two, the gaiety of fantasy is destroyed

How do you smuggle daydreams into reality?

How's daydreaming affecting nightmares?? Showing the light where is all dark!

I believe that unfulfilled frustrated people probably spend a lot of their lives in pure fantasy-dreaming. This can I am sure be a great source of consolation though not always harmless.

If a writer is daydreaming, leave them be. They could be plotting their next great story.

In my head, this world is so much more beautiful. If you ever catch me daydream, please, don’t wake me up.

I never had a childhood. Not like the rest of them anyway. I had a starting point from which I have never stopped running.

I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music.

I passed people shopping or walking their dogs, and young people, university students maybe, busy about their lives, so that the streets I walked seems vibrant to me, more vibrant than my own. But then almost everywhere I went I imagined a place more accommodating of the life I wanted, as if happiness were a matter of streets or parks, as maybe to a point it is; and with R. away for so long I was accustomed to thinking of my real life existing in some distant place or future time, projecting forward in a way that I was afraid might keep me from living fully where I was.

I passed people shopping or walking their dogs, and young people, university students maybe, busy about their lives, so that the streets I walked seemed vibrant to me, more vibrant than my own. But then almost everywhere I went I imagined a place more accommodating of the life I wanted, as if happiness were a matter of streets or parks, as maybe to a point it is; and with R. away for so long I was accustomed to thinking of my real life existing in some distant place or future time, projecting forward in a way that I was afraid might keep me from living fully where I was.

Is daydreaming a distraction from work, or work a distraction from daydreaming?

Lying in bed and daydreaming was the best thing I did all day.

I understand why you need to add a release valve and learn how to steer the balloon. But after that - what will you do with a better balloon?' ... A dreamy smile tugged at his lips. 'I'd fly away, of course.

I've always felt that distant train whistles heard in the dead of night are the universe's way of letting us know the best days are neither ahead nor behind us...they're happening right now, cradled in the palms of our hands. But that doesn't change the fact that the whiskey, weed, and romance eventually runs out and the night will soon turn to day.

Now that she had the diagnosis to explain her sense of reality, she sorted some of the chaotic jumble of thoughts and memories. "I'd feel funny having 'daydreamed' my way through whole seasons," Jo said, "but then I'd hear someone say, 'Time flies,' or 'How did it get to be three o'clock already?' and I'd think that everyone was like me.

Man, you look like you've never seen a gas station before! You zone out so much sometimes, it's like you're going to another world!

Niru, you're welcome to stay if you want, Ms. McConnell says to me without looking up from her desk. Without students in the classroom she is much smaller and more feminine. I stare at her legs visible beneath her desk and at the way her blonde hair falls about her face as she reads the New Yorker. Porn makes it look so easy, so casual, so routine. Older women are supposed to crave fresh young meat, to lick their pen tops absentmindedly while thinking about us, to squeeze their legs together in a good faith effort to keep from corrupting the younger generations. And I am supposed to stumble forward both confused and uncontrolled, pulled by my relentless desire like light towards a black hole. Except I am unmoved. I imagine Ms. McConnell naked, perched at the edge of her desk, legs crossed waiting for me to cross the room and give her what she needs. That's how they always say it, that they will take what they want, get what they need, that hardcore sex is good punishment for bad behavior. I wonder if it would set the record straight for me. It's nice outside, Ms. McConnell says, you should enjoy the day. Her stare makes me feel like she can read my thoughts and I am suddenly embarrassed.

Not only should we encourage kids to daydream, but also to jump-in and build those dreams. Dreaming is largely lost among adults drowning in self-imposed realities.