根据以下材料，回答题
Now and again I have had horrible dreams,but not enough of them to make me lose my delight in dreams. To begin with, Ilike the idea of dreaming, of going to bed and lying still and then, by somequeer magic, wandering into another kind of existence. As a child I could neverunderstand why grown-ups took dreaming so calmly when they could make such afuss about any holiday. This still puzzles me. I am mystified by people who saythey never dream and appear to have no interest in the subject. It is much moreastonishing than if they said they never went out for a walk. Most people or atleast more Western Europeans do not seem to accept dreaming as part of theirlives.
They appear to see it as an irritatinglittle habit, like sneezing or yawning.
I have never understood this. My dream lifedoes not seem as important as my waking life, if only because there is far lessof it, but to me it is important. As if there were at least two extra continentsadded to the world, and lightning excursions running to them at any momentbetween midnight and breakfast. Then again, the dream life, though queer andconfusing and unsatisfactory in many respects, has its own advantages. The deadare there, smiling and talking. The part is there, sometimes all broken andconfused but occasionally as fresh as a daisy. And perhaps, as Mr. Dunne tellsus, the future is there too, winking at us. This dream life is oftenovershadowed by huge mysterious anxieties, with luggage that cannot be packedand trains that refuse to be caught; and both persons and scenes there are notas dependable and solid as they are in waking life, so that Brown and Smithmerge into one person while Robinson splits into two, and there are thick woodsoutside the bathroom door and the dining room is somehow part of a theaterbalcony; and there are moments of loneliness or terror in the dream world thatare worse than anything we have known under the sun. Yet this other life hasits interests, its happiness, its satisfactions, and at certain rare intervals,a serene glow or a sudden joy, like glimpses of another form of existence altogether,that we cannot match with open eyes. Silly or wise, terrible or excellent, itis a further helping of experience, a bonus after dark, another slice of lifecut differently, for which, it seems to me, we are never sufficiently grateful.Only a dream! Why only It was there and you had it.
"If there were dreams to sell,"Beddoes inquires, "What would you pay " I cannot say off hand, butcertainly the price would be rather more than I could afford.

When the author was young, hethought that ________________.查看材料

A.by dreaming people could live a betterlife indeed
B.he was puzzled by the mysterious qualityof dreams
C.it was astonishing that adults lovedholidays so much
D.it was a pity that adults could not enjoydreams