Recently, I read a statement that disturbed me. I believe this to be a fallacy. Dreams are the fabric from which kingly raiment is fashioned.
Dreams are the metals that construct spaceships and craft wedding bands.
Dreams are the paper on which tickets to Babe Ruth's farewell game are printed. Reality is what stops a small boy from leaving Cabrini Greens. Reality is what keeps a young paraplegic from walking on the moon. Reality deprives today's youth from turning their lonely eyes to Joe Dimagio. Reality is no more than a slap in a child's face when his parents tell him that he is too small to be a football star, and he would do better to study his multiplication tables.