To Verify Images Kills Them, And It

The Dream Remains Overloaded With The Badly Lived Passions Of Daytime Life. Solitude In The Nocturnal Dream Is Always A Hostility. It Is Strange. It Isn't Really Our Solitude.

In Our Life As A Civilized Person In The Industrial Age, We Are Invaded By Objects; How Could An Object Have A "force" When It No Longer Has Individuality?

Nothing Is Forgotten In The Processes Of Idealization. Reveries Of Idealization Develop, Not By Letting Oneself Be Taken In By Memories, But By Constantly Dreaming The Values Of A Being Whom One Would Love. And That Is The Way A Great Dreamer Dreams His Double. His Magnified Double Sustains Him.

Words, In Their Distant Past, Have The Past Of My Reveries.

A Universe Comes To Contribute To Our Happiness When Reverie Comes To Accentuate Our Repose. You Must Tell The Man Who Wants To Dream Well To Begin By Being Happy. Then Reverie Plays Out Its Veritable Destiny; It Becomes Poetic Reverie And By It, In It, Everything Becomes Beautiful. If The Dreamer Had "the Gift" He Would Turn His Reverie Into A Work. And This Work Would Be Grandiose Since The Dreamed World Is Automatically Grandiose.