"I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through dreams; and the dreamers will wake and wonder why this dream seemed different, wonder how real their lives can truly be."
— Morpheus/Dream, The Sandman (1989)
The Harlot: You're a special person, darling. There are men who waste their entire lives trying to enter the Dreamlands, yet you gain access as easily as the denizens who call it home.
Cy: Well, I'd say it's more like it found me.
The Harlot: Which is more prophetic and more troubling than you know.
Cy: Well, I'd say it's more like it found me.
The Harlot: Which is more prophetic and more troubling than you know.
— Fall of Cthulhu: The Fugue
Charlie: After Piotr and I both woke up on the bus, he and his violin case got up and changed seats. He looked straight at me and said, "stay out of my head." We were both right freaked out, but I can't understand why he was hostile. I actually materialized a rubber dinghy in the tunnel to save him, which I thought was pretty resourceful considering I'd never even been in anyone else's dream before. He just didn't appreciate it. Maybe he had a death wish.
Dr. Pelk: And after this incident — it happened other times? What can you tell us about those first instances?
Charlie: Well, I've always been a lucid dreamer, but after the drug or infection — I'm calling it an infection because I got sick, you understand — after that, I started wandering into other people's dreams on the regular.
Dr. Pelk: And after this incident — it happened other times? What can you tell us about those first instances?
Charlie: Well, I've always been a lucid dreamer, but after the drug or infection — I'm calling it an infection because I got sick, you understand — after that, I started wandering into other people's dreams on the regular.
— Sweet Dreams, by Tricia Sullivan
"The Archivist does not know where he is, and in many ways that is correct, for to say that he was anywhere would be an error. He has no conception of his body, lying on that gray hospital bed, perplexing the doctors. Heart unbeating, lungs unmoving, but mind and nerves alive and firing wildly: everything but brain-dead. But he is where he exists so often when his eyes are closed. He wanders the dreams he was given."
— Elias Bouchard, The Magnus Archives, "Eye Contact"
