William Butler Yeats

But I being Poor, have only my dreams

I have spread my dreams under your feet

Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams

Ernest Dowson

They are not long, the days of wine and roses

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then closes

With in a dream

Shakespeare

We are such stuff

As dreams are made on , and our little life

Is rounded out with a sleep

Poem – Dreams

All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.