I dreamed I was a comma again, this time setting off a phrase as an entity, at the same time emphasizing the coherence of the preceding and following terms.  Then I was in heaven, and had become a mark to indicate a pause to take a breath.  I reminded readers everywhere to BREATHE!  I felt so important (though not conceited).

While in heaven, I saw the face the Creator.

Then I dreamed about "magnificent sentences" penned by "an aristocrat of letters" whose "baroque semicolons and rolling phrases rumble like drums," exactly as described in TERROR AND LIBERALISM by Paul Berman.