Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.

Is Life itself a dream, I wonder?

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on the slates. "What are they doing?" Alice whispered to the Gryphon. "They can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.""They're putting down their names," the Gryphon whispered in reply, "for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.

You would have to be half mad to dream me up.

May we not then sometimes define insanity as an inability to distinguish which is the waking and which the sleeping life? We often dream without the least suspicion of unreality: 'Sleep hath its own world', and it is often as lifelike as the other.

Life, what is it but a dream?