Dream dictionary: tic dream meanings

…in which I found myself, was at least three times the size of any I had hitherto seen. It was already full of white-faced people, who, sitting and lying among innumerable boxes in, apparently, the most uncomfortable postures, were fast asleep and snoring — snoring to the most fantastic and taking of tunes I have ever heard. My not having a ticket greatly perturbed me. I expected every moment the collector would put in an appearance and make a scene, and, sure enough, in accordance with my forebodings, in he came, accompanied by the guard, engine-driver; foreman, and half-a-dozen other officials, who, rushing on me with livid faces and flashing eyes; were about to annihilate me altogether when a tremendous hubbub on the line attracted the attention of one and all, and a most extraordinary spectacle presented itself to our gaze. Exactly opposite our compartment was a monstrous green engine…

…Most writers and artists live in dreamland. In their hours of wakefulness, Phantasmagoria comes to them; in their hours of sleep they go to Phantasmagoria. Pursued and pursuing, in bed, at work or at play, they are never free from fantasies. In my novels my imagination runs riot, I make no attempt to suppress it. I write of the fantastic the weird, the occult; for at night I move, I breathe, I think in phantom land. So often have I visited this same phantom land that I have made a map of it, naming its isles, seas, mountains, lakes, forests, rivers, and plains. With many of the smaller landmarks, too, I am familiar, and I know what each turn and twist of certain roads have in store for me. Everything is portrayed to me so vividly that I believe my spiritual body, separating itself from my material body, actually…

One night, as far back as 1894, 1 dreamed I was in a desert in Phantomnia, and that bounding towards me from a distance, came a white kangaroo decorated with large, brown spots that looked as if they had been recently painted, and which imparted to it a wooden appearance. It came right up to me, and eyeing me in the friendliest manner possible, said, “Have you seen my mother?” “No!” I replied, “I have not seen anyone here for the last two years, because it is fully that time since I visited these parts. What is she like?” The kangaroo was greatly perplexed. “Why,” he said, “To tell you the truth I haven’t the slightest idea. I thought, perhaps, you might know; but, of course; since you have been absent for so long, it is very obvious you are the last person I should have asked. Good-bye.”…

I have, over and over again in my dreams, visited a certain district when the weather has been fine; but the other night I was there during a storm, and the experience, though interesting, was not too agreeable. I was in a hut on a wide, vast desert traversed by a broad river, and bounded by a long chain of mountains on the one side, and on the other by a forest of pines. On my arrival all was hushed and still; the air soft and sweet; the sky clear and blue; typical in every respect of an ideal summer day. The change was brought about in a totally unprecedented manner. The blue of the heavens was suddenly metamorphosed into a vivid violet, and the wind from the mountain tops, shrieking and roaring like ten million devils across the plain, converted the hitherto placid waters of the rivers…

…fears are groundless, when, with an unexpectedness that makes my heart almost leap out of my body, every door opens simultaneously and scores of long, yellow feet appear, which, after striking the ground three times in unison, are hurriedly withdrawn. An interval of some seconds follows, after which the doors are once more opened and the most curious, long, thin, yellow faces, half human and half animal, are thrust through with a mechanical and mirthless ” Ha, ha, ha!”These also disappear from view, the doors shutting simultaneously as before. A vast number of footsteps are now heard ascending the staircase, and, almost before I have time to move aside, dozens of tall figures clad in the most fantastic of tight-fitting yellow garments come racing up, and, ranging themselves in two opposite rows right along the corridor, all stamp their feet to the tune of a deep intonated ” Hock, hock,…

I often dream of the same town. Sometimes all the inhabitants appear wearing costumes of one colour, sometimes all appear wearing costumes of another colour, sometimes they all appear clad in black. Having dreamed one of these dreams quite recently, I append the following description:I found myself approaching the town from the direction of a desert. It was a glorious evening, and the walls and windows of the houses shone like burnished gold in the ruddy glow of the slanting sunbeams. But what impressed me on this occasion, over and above all, was the silence; it seemed assumed for a purpose and to be part of a plot, in which everyone and everything participated, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was to be the victim of some unpleasant hoax. I cast my eyes in all directions — there was not a soul to be seen —…

…its gleaming surface at a time, and a very few sweeps of the oars sufficed to shoot my skiff from one angle to another.The character of my surroundings changed as I advanced; the banks and trees grew in height until little of the sky could be seen; the rapidity of the stream ceased, and the waters became deep and tranquil; whilst over and above all hung a silence that brought with it an exquisite sense of rest, intermingled with which was a faint suggestiveness of something bizarre and ghoulish. An unusually abrupt bend, round which the boat subtly glided, laid before me a spectacle so extraordinary that for some seconds I was almost dazed. I had emerged into a gigantic circular basin of several miles in diameter, and entirely composed of glittering white marble. All around it were steps that led down, down, down, until they were lost to sight…

…turmoil, speed, and darkness; I could feel a thousand objects brush against me, hear the jarring echoes and vibrations of a thousand voices, and then — in one brief instant — all had changed. It was light, a peculiar phosphorous glow pervaded everything, and I found myself in a new plane sitting astride a gigantic beetle with all the trees in the forest running after me. I say “running,” for they all had legs, long and spidery legs, and arms too, whilst their stature having considerably decreased, their proportions differed little from that of tall human beings. As they ran they all laughed, a deep mechanical “Ha, ha, ha!” and raising their hands above their heads, they waved them menacingly at me. But the beetle bore me gallantly on, and, despite the desperate efforts the trees made to overtake us, we still maintained our lead. We had progressed a considerable…

…Huntsmen not infrequently figure in my dreams. On July 1st, 1909, I dreamed I was standing on the veranda of a house, overlooking a neatly kept lawn and a broad white carriage drive, beyond which was a spinney. It was a beautiful evening, and every object stood out with startling perspicuity in the powerful moonlight. Whilst I was gazing admiringly at the transcendental loveliness of the landscape, I felt a soft hand laid caressingly on my arm, and, on looking round, saw a lady clad in the costume of the middle ages. As she often figures in my dreams, I was in no degree astonished at her appearance. ”How romantic we are!” she said, with a smile; “I was quite under the impression that lingering so long in a great city had spoilt you for the pleasures of the country. With me it is too much country, I long…