God should honour the man who invented sleep, for he must have been a smart fellow; still more honour, however, should be paid to the inventor of the dream. Not the dream that arises from our minds only when we lie under the soft blanket of sleep — no, the dream that we dream our whole lives long, the dream that often lifts the oppressive burden of earthly cares upon its wings and silences every bitter woe, every dismal lament of disappointed hope, being itself a heavenly ray kindled in our bosoms both to inspire our incessant yearning and to promise its fulfilment.
(E. T. A. Hoffmann, Princess Brambilla)
It had never in my life occurred to me, before I read this, how fascinating, utterly wondrous, is our capacity to hope and dream. What survival advantage or psychological value could it possibly have? To hope and dream. No other creature hopes and dreams.