It seems to make me return to the place, poignantly dear to my heart, where my grandfathers house used to be in which i was born 40 years ago right on the dinner table. Each time i try to enter it, something prevents me from doing that. I see this dream again and again. And when i see those walls made of logs and the dark entrence, even in my dream i become aware that I'm only dreaming it. And the overwhelming joy is clouded by anticipation of awakening. At times something happens and i stop dreaming of the house and the pine trees of my childhood around it. Then i get depressed. And i can't wait to see this dream in which ill be a child again and feel happy again because everything will still be ahead, everything will be possible.

The Mirror, A. Tarkovsky (1975)