Quotes About Fantasy

He wanted to bed her. Visions darted from his seething imagination, of her body, the limbs and curves and skin he had not yet seen, the swell of her bottom as he cupped it in his hands. He wanted the scent of her in his nostrils, and on his own skin…the drag of her long hair over his throat and chest…He wanted to do unspeakable things with her mouth, and with his own.

You're not like any man I've ever known," she said. "You're not even someone I could have dreamed. You're like someone from a fairy story written in a language I don't even know." "The prince, I hope." "No, you're the dragon, a beautiful wicked dragon." Her voice turned wistful. "How could anyone have a normal everyday life with you?

I think it's the whole 'bad boy who's so good but destined to break your heart' fantasy. Which doesn't sound like much of a fantasy when you put the broken heart part in the picture, but it is. It so is.

Yet in the city I was discovering, the collage of fantasy, pigment, quotation, and architecture that I walked through daily in my outfits and my obsessions, I came to notice small-scale transpositions, tiny openings within the texture of the present, where choices towards a freed thinking could be possible.

How can we not create a fantasy in our minds when the reality is so hard?

It was an octopus with one eye. A Cyclops octopus. I'd call it a cyclopoctopus until a better name came along.

The NYPD knew Sar Gedeon as a human drug lord. If they'd come in here now, they would have found him dead, sporting Spock ears, a cauterized hole in his torso, no heart, and a hoofprint branded into his chest. I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that investigation.

It was always a dream house, and like a dream, it has no end.

If I were a lucky girl I would have won the lottery or something. Maybe I had, I thought, staring dreamily at Marcello.

Sometimes a world that doesn't exist is the only escape from the one that does.

Sometimes a world that doesn't exist is the only escape from one that does.

She'd noticed immediately that I understood the lure of a good story. Sometimes a world that doesn't exist is the only escape from the one that does.

What luxury, to be so happy that we can grieve over imaginary lives.

Oh, by the way, Mom, I've been meaning to ask. I don't suppose you married a merman, had his child, and then never saw him again? OR THOUGHT TO TELL YOUR DAUGHTER ABOUT IT? HUH???

I let out a breath. So basically we needed to find a place where what we saw wasn't really there, and then climb up a tongue into a giant's mouth. Excellent.

Dealing with the impossible, fantasy can show us what may be really possible. If there is grief, there is the possibility of consolation; if hurt, the possibility of healing; and above all, the curative power of hope. If fantasy speaks to us as we are, it also speaks to us as we might be.

I had discovered that the plainest house can crown a fantasy or daydream. An open window can be tolerated. So can an open door. But I discovered the value of four walls and a roof. Something about containment that at the same time offers escape.

How many of our daydreams would darken into nightmares, were there a danger of their coming true!

I like to maintain a certain sense of fantasy in my life. I am kind of like that at home. Do I have the full hair and makeup? No. But I might have the nice dress on.

Ivy dreams sullenly and alone of overthrowing the cities.

In the real, grown-up world, unicorns were more plentiful than Prince Charmings.

In my dreams, I could be a Princess, and that's what I was. Like most little girls, I believed nothing less than a Prince could make my dreams come true.

My imagination is a burden sometimes.

A small part of her secretly hoped she caught him in bed. But that really was a very small part. The bigger part hoped he was in the shower.