We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world forsakers, for whom the pale moon gleams. Yet we are movers and the shakers of the world forever it seems.
What a pity that so many people rather believe their doubts And doubt their beliefs... Why don't we just decide to have no doubts, And believe your beliefs Fear and worry is just the mis-use of the creative powers We originally got to dream.
What if you slept? And what if, in your sleep, you dreamed? And what if, in your dream, you went to heaven and plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if, when you awoke, you had the flower in your hand? Ah, what then?
What is your dream? To be the most famous man in the world? What a stupid dream you have! To conquer the whole world with an army? What a primitive dream you have! To earn millions of dollars? What a greedy dream you have! Question your dreams!
What we all hope in reaching for a book, is to meet a man of our own heart, to experience tragedies and delights which we ourselves lack the courage to invite, to dream dreams which will render life more hallucinating, perhaps also to discover a philosophy of life which will make us more adequate in meeting the trials and ordeals which beset us. To merely add to our store of knowledge or improve our culture, whatever that may mean, seems worthless to me.