Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is like a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue. . . . Ralph Waldo Emerson
The widower reviewed his past in a sunless light which was intensified by the greyness of the November twilight, whilst the bells subtly impregnated the surrounding atmosphere with the melody of sounds that faded like the ashes of dead years. Georges Rodenbach, Bruges-La-Morte
The dining room and kitchen at the Whaley House in San Diego, known as the most haunted house in America. Set on the original site of the Old Town gallows, it is the oldest brick structure in Southern California.
It is far harder to kill a phantom than a reality. Virginia Woolf, The Death of the Moth and Other Essays
Her smile adds an air of enigma to her. Like a melting cup of warm dark chocolate on a November evening. Ipsita Upasana, Inexplicable Distances
If you haven’t heard Taylor Swift’s latest radio hit Anti-Hero, you probably living successfully of the grid. If you have found yourself inundated with all things Taylor, album reviews, fat shaming criticism, and subsequent ticket sales snafus, you might have missed this country cover of Swift’s latest single. Recorded by Josiah and the Bonnevilles, it’s the rare song cover that elevates the original material. A mournful, stripped down acoustic version, it’s definitely going on my winter playlist.
He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams. J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (The Lord of the Rings, #1)
People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes. Neil Gaiman
Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. Edgar Allan Poe, Eleonora
Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist
Everyday Strange 