Quotes & Sayings About Dreaming And Flying

Flying in his dreams was an exhilarating, breathtaking experience, sometimes literally, that tended to leave reality wanting, like riding a roller coaster compared to mowing the lawn. — Sol Luckman

Didn't dreaming about flying mean you were a self-loving little shit? — Maggie Stiefvater

Flying fosters fantasies of childhood, of omnipotence, rapid shifts of being, miraculous moments; it stirs our capacity for dreaming. — Joyce Carol Oates

You seemed so far away," Miss Honey whispered, awestruck.
"Oh, I was. I was flying past the stars on silver wings," Matilda said. "It was wonderful. — Roald Dahl

I had a dream about you last night... I think flying saucer activity is pretty easy to explain; if I had one, I'd go joyriding too. — Marshall Ramsay

We swung over the hills and over the town and back again, and I saw how a man can be master of a craft, and how a craft can be master of an element. I saw the alchemy of perspective reduce my world, and all my other life, to grains in a cup. I learned to watch, to put my trust in other hands than mine. And I learned to wander. I learned what every dreaming child needs to know
that no horizon is so far that you cannot get above it or beyond it. — Beryl Markham

Today, I went to sleep under a plum tree. There, I dreamed I was a butterfly, flying so pleasently. Then, I fell asleep, and the dream ended. Now- I have to ask myself - am I Zhuang Zi who dreamed of a butterfly? Or am I that butterfly, dreaming I am Zhuang Zi? — Zhuangzi

One night I was flying over my village and people looked up and said "Look Bangambiki is flying while he is a man, where did he get the wings? Get down, you are dreaming!" I answered them, "I am not a man. I am a superman, and supermen fly!" I am sure I might have fallen if I believed what they told me. Continue flying, continue dreaming, you are a superman — Bangambiki Habyarimana

Reading, writing, listening to music, skipping rope, flying kites, taking long walks along the sea, hiking in the crisp mountain air, all serve a joint purpose: these self-initiated acts free us from the drudgery of life. These forms of physical and mental exercises release the mind to roam uninhibited, such collaborative types of mind and body actions take people away from their physical pains and emotional grievances. A reprieve from the crippling grind of sameness allows personal imagination to soar. Imagination, a form of dreaming, is inherently pleasant and restorative. It is within these moments of personal introspection stolen from the industry of surviving that humankind touches upon the absolute truth of life: that there must be something more to living then merely getting by; the fundamental human condition thirsts for a way to improve upon the vestment that shelters our self-absorbed lives. — Kilroy J. Oldster

Do you know what Freud said about dreams of flying? It means you're really dreaming about having sex."

"Indeed? Tell me, then, what does it mean when you dream about having sex? — Neil Gaiman

I think I usually have quite ordinary dreams. Sometimes my dreams take me to other dimensions. I can travel in my mind especially when I'm dreaming I focus my mind on what I want to dream. If I want to fly, I focus on flying. — Uri Geller

Ages ago, in another city, on another bus, I sat so at the windows, looking outward, inventing for each flying face which trapped my brief attention some life, some destiny, in which I played a part. I was looking for some whisper, or promise, of my possible salvation. But it seemed to me that morning that my ancient self had been dreaming the most dangerous dream of all. — James Baldwin

Smoke the weed of your own heart to fly higher — Munia Khan

Being on a trapeze is like dreaming. I feel totally outside of myself when I'm flying. You know, designing shoes, my imagination is flying in my drawings. — Christian Louboutin

He had his eyes closed and
rocked himself so much that everyone thought he would
soon crash to the ground. And then it happened. He
crashed to the ground. Surprised, he lay on the ground
on his side, not sure what had happened, looking around.
Next he jumped up and listened to Matica's singing again,
starting to rock himself once more. His eyes closed slowly,
his beak opened. And then he crashed to the ground a second
time. This time he kept lying down, spreading his free
wing up into the air and waving it to the tune of the melody.
Strange sounds came out of his beak. It was a grunt
but more than a grunt, as if he was really enjoying himself,
as if he would follow Matica's words and would sing
or hum as well. — Gigi Sedlmayer

[His eyes are] Atlantic Ocean blue, just like he'd said. It's strange because of course I'd known that. But the difference between knowing it and seeing them in person is the difference between dreaming of flying and flight. — Nicola Yoon