Dreams are extraordinarily strange. One thing appears with terrifying clarity, with the details finely set like jewels, while you leap over another, as though you did not notice it at all — space and time, for instance. It seems that dreams are the work not of mind but of desire, not of the head but of the heart…
2w ago
The thing that astonishes me is that the same images, the same landscapes, return each night with such fidelity. They must exist somewhere.
3mo ago
Underscored — save the words that stop you in your tracks.