…Dreaming of potatoes, brings incidents often of good. Dreaming of digging them, denotes success. Dreaming of eating them, you will enjoy substantial gain. To cook potatoes in the dream, indicates congenial employment. In the dream to plant potatoes or to see others planting them, brings realization of desires. To see rotten potatoes or to make them rotting in the dream, represents vanished pleasure and a darkening future….

Dreaming of potatoes is a good dream, and it usually announces something favorable, especially when the dreamer is eating. Dreaming of peeling potatoes announces that soon the dreamer will achieve his or her objectives. Dreaming of eating burnt potatoes suggests that soon there will be disappointments, failures, losses, etc.

Seeing potatoes in your dream symbolizes laziness and/or stupidity. Eating potatoes in your dream suggests that you will experience some financial issues.

To dream about potatoes represents the risk of suffering or love disappointment. Take more care of your relation with your loved one.

…the earnestness with which he pleaded, flung him on the floor, and would have stabbed him, had not the room suddenly become pitch dark, and a loud and hollow voice uttered these words: “Fool! Thou hast murdered thine own soul! Know thy hell!” Something then struck me heavily on the forehead, I lost consciousness, and on recovering, found myself in a huge kitchen garden.A spade was in my hand, and I was digging for potatoes. The sun was so tremendously hot; my back and arms ached cruelly; and I was desperately thirsty. “Curse it!” I said to myself. “I have had enough of it! The old lady may go without her dinner for all I care! I am not going to wear myself to pieces and get sunstroke for her!’ Then I dashed my spade to the ground, and, looking round, espied a pool of clear water. Revelling in the…

…suet roly-poly — spotted monkey, my kiddie calls it — bathed in butter sauce. Now, to tell you the truth, sir, its lather a favourite pudding of mine, still they need not have given me half of it. And then, sir, when I had helped the last piece down with my fork and was feeling like a stuffed Christmas stocking, on came dessert and wine.”What! You won’t have a glass of port?”Mrs. Montague cried, looking at me with a pained expression in her big, innocent blue eyes. ‘Oh, you must have one, Constable, just one! Come, you can’t refuse a lady!’”The sergeant, ma’am!’ I gasped, for I could hardly articulate a sound owing to the pudding and — potatoes; ‘ if the sergeant smells port, ma’am, I shall be discharged!’”You needn’t be afraid of that. Constable,” Mrs. Montague laughed. ‘We will give you some peppermints, which I can guarantee will…