Sometimes you wake up from a dream. Sometimes you wake up in a dream. And sometimes, every once in a while, you wake up in someone else's dream.
Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore.
What are you, Rose Hathaway? Are you real? You're a dream within a dream. I'm afraid touching you will make me wake up. You'll disappear.
If I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss. Without dreams,I have to be content with my own imagination—which is almost as good. I can picture all those things perfectly.
If your eyes weren't open, you wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking.
What's going on?" he asked, looking from face to face. "I was having a good dream." "I need you," said Lissa. "I hear that from women a lot," said Adrian. Christian made a gagging sound, but the faintest glimmer of a smile crossed Eddie's lips, despite his otherwise tough guardian-stance.
Good God," I said. "This is the most stereotypical vampire food ever." "Only if it was raw. What do you think?" "It's good," I said reluctantly. Who knew that bacon would have made all the difference? "Really good. I think you have a promising future as a housewife while Lissa works and makes millions of dollars." "Funny, that's exactly my dream.
None of it seems real. Who knows? Maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s actually happening to someone else. Maybe it’s something I imagined. Maybe soon I’m going to wake up and find everything fixed with Lissa and Dimitri. We’ll all be together, and he’ll be there to smile and hold me and tell me everything ‘s going to be okay. Maybe all of this really has been a dream. But I don’t think so.
It matters to me. That's what you don't get. You can't understand. You can't understand what it's like knowing what I did. That whole time being Strigoi...It's like a dream now, but it's one I remember clearly. There can be no forgiveness for me. And what happened with you? I remember that most of all. Everything I did. Everything I wanted to do.
Rose once told me about this poem she’d read. There was this line, ‘If your eyes weren’t open, you wouldn’t know the difference between dreaming and waking.’ You know what I’m afraid of? That someday, even with my eyes open, I still won’t know.
Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. It's a wonder I can spot reality anymore."... He turned from me with a sigh. "I need a drink."... "Oh, good. That'll fix everything. I'm glad in a world gone mad, you've still got your old standbys."... "What do you expect me to do?" he asked. "You could... You could... Well, now that you're here, you could help us. Plus, this guy we're meeting. He's another spirit user."... "Yeah, that's exactly what I want. To help my girlfriend get her old boyfriend back. " He turned away again, and I heard him mutter, "I need two drinks."
You know I love you, right?” The urge to kiss her goodbye was so strong that I almost broke our rules. She smiled, beautiful and golden in the late morning light. “Not as much as I love you.” “Oh, man. This is my dream come true: having an ‘I love you more’ debate. Here, I’ll start. I love you more. Your turn.” Sydney laughed and opened the door. “I’ve taken debate classes. You’d lose to my logic.
One of the few downsides to being awakened is that we no longer require sleep; therefore we also no longer dream. It's a shame, because if I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.
The door opened, and we were met by a fifty-something man with a grizzled blond beard. He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt. Also, he had an eye patch. "This is incredible," I heard Adrian murmur. "Beyond my wildest dreams.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking from face to face. "I was having a good dream." "I need you," said Lisa. "I hear that from women a lot."
She didnʹt know if she could carry on by herself, but then, she realized that if this wasnʹt a dream—and dear God, did it feel real—there was no magic ʺstopʺ in real life. If she couldnʹt deal with loneliness in a dream, she never would be able to while waking.
Surely I must be a princess in an enchanted sleep. Any day now, this dream-no, nightmare would end, and I’d get my prince and happy ending.
Then it's settled," I said. "We'll do a dream conference call." That love and rapture faltered. "Wait. How is it settled? How did we go from me declaring my love for you to me being okay with a dream?" "It's Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don't try to understand it. Just roll with it.
ONCE WHEN I WAS ninth grade i had to write a paper on a poem. One of the lines was"If your eyes weren't open you wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking' It hadn't meant meant much to me at the time. After all there'd been a guy in the class that i liked so how could i be expected to pay attention to literary analysis? Now three year later i understand the poem perfectly.
I took a deep breath. "Are you free tonight?" There was a long, pregnant pause. "What about the man in the dream?" he finally asked. "There is no man in the dream.
Adrian: I can visit people in their dreams. Christian: Stop. I can feel there is a comment coming on about how women already dream about you. I just ate, you know.
Wine's terrible for babies." Dorian swept into the sitting room to join me, elegantly arranging himself on a love seat that displayed his purple velvet robes to best effect. "Well of course it is. I'd never dream of giving wine to an infant! What do you take me for, a barbarian? But for you... well, it might go a long way to make you a little less jumpy. You've been positively unbearable to live around. "I can't have it either. It affects the babies in utero.
That's the great thing about being a writer. You dream up amazing questions... and then dream up even more amazing answers.
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