“Go higher and higher, until it becomes impossible to bring you down, I wanna use a microscope to locate you, don’t even dream of coming down.”

“ i had a dream when i was 22 that someday i would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till i came to one of the poles of the earth”

“Wings are like dreams. Before each flight, a bird takes a small jump, a leap of faith, believing that its wings will work. That jump can only be made with rock solid feet.”

“your smile.is the ultimategolden dream.all the poemsin the worldare waking up from.”

“The true measure of a man is not what he dreams, but what he aspires to be; a dream is nothing without action. Whether one fails or succeeds is irrelevant; all that matters is that there was motion in his life. That alone affects the world.”

“Here’s a funny question:What is your favorite word?Think about it—maybe it’s a word that makes you absolutely happy, or a word that sounds gloriously beautiful, or a word that evokes awe and wonder. Maybe you are reminded of a great time when you hear it, or maybe it represents your life’s dream.So, what is it? What is your favorite word of all words?Thought about it yet?Good.And now, think why.”

“Do you wait for things to happen, or do you make them happen yourself? I believe in writing your own story.”

“Remain faithful to the earth, my brothers, with the power of your virtue. Let your gift-giving love and your knowledge serve the meaning of the earth. Thus I beg and beseech you. Do not let them fly away from earthly things and beat with their wings against eternal walls. Alas, there has always been so much virtue that has flown away. Lead back to the earth the virtue that flew away, as I do—back to the body, back to life, that it may give the earth a meaning, a human meaning.”

“What happens to the dream when the dreamer dies?”

“Dreams don’t get stolenIt’s we who break them”

“I tell you, life is extraordinary. A few years ago I couldn’t write anything or sell anything, I’d passed the age where you know all the returns are in, I’d had my chance and done my best and failed. And how was I to know the miracle waiting to happen round the corner in late middle age? 84, Charing Cross Road was no best seller, you understand; it didn’t make me rich or famous. It just got me hundreds of letters and phone calls from people I never knew existed; it got me wonderful reviews; it restored a self-confidence and self-esteem I’d lost somewhere along the way, God knows how many years ago. It brought me to England. It changed my life.”

“Then Deborah stood at the wicket gate, the boundary, and there was a woman with outstretched hand, demanding tickets.”Pass through,” she said when Deborah reached her. “We saw you coming.” The wicket gate became a turnstile. Deborah pushed against it and there was no resistance, she was through. “What is it?” she asked. “Am I really here at last? Is this the bottom of the pool?””It could be,” smiled the woman. “There are so many ways. You just happened to choose this one.”Other people were pressing to come through. They had no faces, they were only shadows. Deborah stood aside to let them by, and in a moment they had gone, all phantoms.”Why only now, tonight?” asked Deborah. “Why not in the afternoon, when I came to the pool?””It’s a trick,” said the woman. “You seize on the moment in time. We were here this afternoon. We’re always here. Our life goes on around you, but nobody knows it. The trick’s easier by night, that’s all.””Am I dreaming, then?” asked Deborah.”No,” said the woman, “this isn’t a dream. And it isn’t death, either. It’s the secret world.”The secret world… It was something Deborah had always known, and now the pattern was complete. The memory of it, and the relief, were so tremendous that something seemed to burst inside her heart.”Of course…” she said, “of course…” and everything that had ever been fell into place. There was no disharmony. The joy was indescribable, and the surge of feeling, like wings about her in the air, lifted her away from the turnstile and the woman, and she had all knowledge. That was it – the invasion of knowledge. (“The Pool”)”