You don't have to do this," Ronan said."There isn't anything else, man.""There's reality."Kavinsky laughed the word. "Reality! Reality's what other people dream for you.""Reality's where other people are," Ronan replied. He stretched out his arms. "What's here, K? Nothing! No one!""Just us."There was a heavy understanding in that statement, amplified by the dream. I know what you are, Kavinsky had said."That's not enough," Ronan replied.

His home was populated by things and creatures from Niall Lynch's dreams, and his mother was just another one of them

Adam translated, "Not death, but his brother, sleep.

Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream

Ah, there it was. It took no effort to remember the way he’d looked at her the first moment he realized she was a dream. “I’m a dream,” Jordan said. “I’m not your dream.

My head was stuffed full of dreams: wolves and humans and blood smeared on lips.

If you've ever looked into a fire and been unable to look away, it's that. If you've ever looked at the mountains and found you're not breathing, it's that. If you've ever looked at the moon and felt tears in your eyes, it's that. It's the stuff between stars, the space between roots, the thing that makes electricity get up in the morning.

The inside of the old Camaro smelled like asphalt and desire, gasoline and dreams.

It was easier for Gansey to wrap his head around a Ronan who made dreams real than a Ronan who wanted to die.