"Nobody ever overcomes the phantasms of his childhood. The man is the corrupt dream of the child, and since there is only decay, and no time, what we call days and evenings are the false angels of our existence. There is nothing except sleep and the moon between the boy and the man; dogs dream and bay the moon, who is the mother of the unconscious. Sorrow and pleasure are the stuff of dreams and the energies of myriads of planets. What is the space between the boy and the man? Did the child who is now the man ever live? Did Christ exist and was Brutus at Philippi? The centuries that divide one from Jesus and Brutus contain no time. We still hear the tinkling of the sheep bells at Mamre, and Abraham continues to sleep beneath the terebinths just as Saul sits and broods underneath a tamarisk—but all these are "thoughts of the visions of the night.""
Quote Details
Added by wikiquote-import-bot
Unverified quote
0 likes
Essayists from the United StatesColumbia University alumniJews from the United StatesAutobiographers from the United StatesUniversity of California, Berkeley alumni
Original Language: English
Available Languages (1)
Sources
Ch. 2, pp. 49–50
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Edward_Dahlberg
Revision History
No revisions have been submitted for this quote.
Categories
Edward Dahlberg
Edward Dahlberg (July 22, 1900 – February 27, 1977) was an American novelist, essayist, and autobiographer.
10 quotes on TrueQuotesView all quotes by Edward Dahlberg →
Related Quotes
"Bosch is great because what he imagines in color can be translated into justice."
"There are men that are birds, and their raiment is trembling feathers, for they show their souls to everyone and ever…"
"When one realizes that his life is worthless he either commits suicide or travels."
"What most men desire is a virgin who is a whore."
"The greater part of your misogamy is venal; the other cause of your invective humbug is that you're a muggish homuncl…"
"Woman is the most superstitious animal beneath the moon. When a woman has a premonition that Tuesday will be a disast…"
"Let the bard from Smyrna catalogue Harma, the ledges and caves of Thaca, the milk-fed damsels of Achaia, pigeon-flock…"
"Nobody heard her tears; the heart is a fountain of weeping water which makes no noise in the world."
"When the image of her comes up on a sudden—just as my bad demons do—and I see again her dyed henna hair, the eyes dwa…"
"For him delicious flavors dwell In books as in old Muscatel."