he stared up at the stars: and it seemed to him then that they were dancers, stately and graceful, performing a dance almost infinite in its complexity. he imagined he could see the very faces of the stars; pale, they were, and smiling gently, as if they had spent so much time above the world, watching the scrambling and the joy and the pain of the people below them, that they could not help being amused every time anatoher little human believed itself the center of its world, as each of us does.
...
" 'scuse me," said a small and hairy voice in his ear, "but would you mind dreamin' a bit quieter? your dreams is spillin' over into my dreams, and if there's one thing i've never been doin' with, it's dates. william the conker, ten sixty-six, that's as far as i go, and i'd swap that for a dancing mouse."
"mm?" said tristran.
"keep it down," said the voice, "if you don't mind."
"sorry," said tristran; and his dreams after that were of the dark.
- stardust, neil gaiman.
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