"<p>The main similarity between sleep and wakefulness in relation to time is that there is no time either in sleep or in the rest, but we imagine it, we cannot help but imagine it. I remember a long, coherent dream ending with a gunshot and wake up. The sound of the gunshot comes from the wind blown window. In remembering the dream, time is necessary for me, indispensable because in the waking state I can sort out all the impressions from the dream. The same happens with memories of waking events. All my life is in the present, but in the memories of it, or rather in the consciousness of life, I cannot but place it in time. I, the child, the man, the old man, all are one, all are in the present. Only they cannot have their consciousness outside of time. I wonder why? And the answer is self-evident: to give me the possibility of the good of life. If I were outside of time and space, I would not exist either, there would be no good for me, nor the possibility of living according to my will, that is, according to the will of God. God lives in me. (Je m'entends *) Just as, waking up from the noise of the wind blowing window, I know that the dream was an illusion, so before death I learn the same about all the events of the world that seemed so real to me.</p>"