For my own part, I have never had a thought which I could not set down in words, with even more distinctness than that which I conceived it.
There is, however, a class of fancies--of exquisite delicacy--which are not thoughts, and to which, as yet, I have found it absolutely impossible to adapt to language.
These fancies arise in the soul (alas, how rarely!) only at epochs of most intense tranquility--when the bodily and mental health are in perfection--and at those mere points of time where the confines of the waking world blend with the world of dreams.
And so I captured this fancy, where all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.