Dreams Are Reality At Its

To Me The World Seems Grotesque, Absurd, Ridiculous, Painful.

A Person Who Has Not Completely Lost The Memory Of Paradise, Even Though It Is A Faint One, Will Suffer Endlessly. He Will Feel The Call Of The Essential World, Will Hear The Voice That Comes From So Far Away That One Cannot Find Out Where It Comes From, A Voice That Cannot Guide Him.

The Light Of Memory, Or Rather The Light That Memory Lends To Things, Is The Palest Light Of All. I Am Not Quite Sure Whether I Am Dreaming Or Remembering, Whether I Have Lived My Life Or Dreamed It. Just As Dreams Do, Memory Makes Me Profoundly Aware Of The Unreality, The Evanescence Of The World, A Fleeting Image In The Moving Water.

Dreams Are Reality At Its Most Profound, And What You Invent Is Truth Because Invention, By Its Nature, Can't Be A Lie.

I've Always Been Suspicious Of Collective Truths.