Dreams are the touchstones of our character.
A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness.
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore- And then run? Does it stink like a rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over- like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
All men who have achieved great things have been great dreamers.
