In dreams, nothing is lost. Childhood homes, the dead, lost toys all appear with a vividness your waking mind could not achieve. Nothing is lost but you yourself, wanderer in a terrain where even the most familiar places aren´t quite themselves and open onto the impossible. The weight of a dream is not in proportion to its size. Some dreams are made of fog, some of lace, some of lead.

— Rebecca Solnit: A Field Guide to Getting Lost