The Forest comes to us in dreams, in whispers. The Forest is in us.
J Damask, Wolf at the Door
Share this:
- Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
- Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)
Consider also:
- Summary for the week ending Nov 5, 2017
- “All of Austin’s ambitions, his hopes and dreams for the future, drowned in the fear that he would never escape this forest.”
- “He inhaled briskly, and the Beau Nash mixture stung his nose, burned the roof of his mouth. But still he inhaled; it woke him up and allowed his dreams, his nocturnal desires and random wishes, to condense into a semblance of rationality.”
- Little Nemo’s Big New Dreams
- “Dreams are without proportion, without good sense, without truth; so also is consciousness.”