Only in dreams was I venturesome, while in reality I instinctively quailed before the future. […] I unconsciously decided to be content for the time being with the world of dreams, in which I alone was master, in which there were only temptations and joys, and where misfortune, if it were admitted at all, played only a passive, evanescent role necessary for the delicious contrasts and unexpected turns of fate that led to the happy endings of all my enthralling, imaginary romances.
Alberto Manguel, The Library at Night
Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume
Sometimes he tried too hard to make sense of the world, to figure out why people were bad to each other so often.
Comics can be literary – or not. They can be complicated and artistic – or not. All of that is debatable. But their nature as books is not.
Story time, Public Library of Cincinnati & Hamilton County, ca.1945.
Yes, I dreamed a dream, my dream of the third of November. They tease me now, telling me it was only a dream. But does it matter whether it was a dream or reality, if the dream made known to me the truth? If once one has recognized the truth and seen it, you know that it is the truth and that there is no other and there cannot be, whether you are asleep or awake. Let it be a dream, so be it, but that real life of which you make so much I had meant to extinguish by suicide, and my dream, my dream — oh, it revealed to me a different life, renewed, grand and full of power!