…nasty “turns” by enemies, failures in work.I have often dreamed about fish. I remember once having a very vivid dream about a shark.I fancied I was bathing in a fresh-water pool close to the house where I was staying, when, to my surprise and horror, I suddenly saw the fin of a shark bearing straight down on me. I shouted for help, and the next moment found myself falling down a well with the shark, an enormous white shark, in full pursuit of me. On arriving at the bottom, I was abruptly transferred to the drawing-room of a house I had not visited or thought of for at least twenty years, when the first thing I saw on the tea-table, its baleful eyes fixed on mine with a malicious grin, was the head of the shark.I awoke in fear and trembling as indeed I might after such a startling…
Dream dictionary: fish head dream meanings
…got up and tried to stand, but my I couldn’t. The port had got into my head, my back, my knees all over me and I’m blessed if I didn’t tumble into my chair with a thud. Ten times I made the attempt and ten times I failed, growing feebler and feebler, and drowsier and drowsier after each effort.”If ever anyone underwent the sufferings of the damned I did then, for muddled and fuddled as I was, I retained for some moments sufficient intelligence to depict what would happen, if I failed to meet the sergeant. At length, however, sleep overcame me, and realising with a groan what was happening, I sank deep down in the soft folds of the luxurious easy chair, and lost consciousness.”When I came to myself it was dawn. A few straggling beams of cold grey light, pouring in through the light blinds,…
…they died away altogether; and again there was a sudden blank, followed by an excruciating pain, in which I seemed to feel the entire upper part of my head slowly wrenched away from the lower. Youth undoubtedly magnifies all things joys and sorrows and pains; and in our after-life we do not feel things so acutely as we did in our childhood. The torture of the rack, I am sure, was as nothing compared with the torture I endured in my sleep under those forceps; and then blessed relief! The diabolical cause of my suffering flew out, and the vague unearthly hum of voices grew louder and louder, till they finally became recognisable human accents; when, as I had actually done under the anaesthetic, I awoke. But it was all real cruelly, wickedly real; and it was due, I have no doubt, to the overtired condition…
…I believe there are people who dream the same dreams repeatedly, even down to the most minor details. One of the dreams I am continually dreaming is as follows: I am walking along the sea-front of some popular watering-place, which, judging by the style of houses and appearance of the people, I should say was abroad. The sun is shining, the sea exquisitely blue; whilst, to enhance the beauty of nature, a band is playing, and playing remarkably well, some gay operatic music. What I see, what I feel, what I think, has about it nothing of the unmistakeable idiosyncrasy of a dream, but all is rigorously self -consistent. I am enjoying myself to the utmost, when, on turning round, I perceive behind me a tramp a man with a shock head of red hair, and features that are ineffaceably stamped on my memory. He is a blight,…