Dream dictionary: www.pcso.gov.ph dream meanings

…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…

…now and then, the most grotesque and extravagant attitude. I was wondering what he meant by these attitudes, when he came to an abrupt pause, and, stooping slightly forward, craned his neck in my direction, and began contorting his face in every conceivable shape, till at last he appeared all mouth. Rushing at me he was about to swallow me, when I awoke. I had this dream prior to a time when my affairs were singularly prosperous all round, which condition of things was undoubtedly presaged by the lark (a bird of exceptional good omen), by the carnations, pansies, forget-me-nots, and pink and white roses, by the clearness of the water in the river, and by the deep blue of the sea. I cannot attach any meaning to the figure and its strange antics; they form one of those apparently insoluble enigmas that so frequently occur in fantastic phantomania….

…glitter proceeding from the innermost recesses of the skull. The face was fleshless and the skin, which was white and luminous, hung closely to the bones, which in places had broken completely through it. It was the face of the long since dead animated by the spirit of a devil, and I doubt if even the Hell of Dante could show such another. Familiar as I was with the sight of ghastly phantasms of all kinds, I had never seen one that impressed me with quite such a terror as this, and, as it glided slowly towards me with out-stretched arms, I verily believe my heart would have burst asunder and I should have died in my sleep, had not the spell that held me limb-tied been suddenly broken. With wild shrieks of despair I fled away, and from behind every bush and tree darted, similarly apparelled, huntsmen in close…

…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.” And,…

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…

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 —…