There is a part of me that has to depend on fantasy, because if you can't be somewhat of a fantasy person, then you can't write
I think that pretty much every form of fiction (I’d include fantasy, obviously) can actually be a real escape from places where you feel bad, and from bad places. It can be a safe place you go, like going on holiday, and it can be somewhere that, while you’ve escaped, actually teaches you things you need to know when you go back, that gives you knowledge and armour and tools to change the bad place you were in. So no, they’re not escapist. They’re escape.
I could see myself in some sort of pioneer bonnet, it's my childhood fantasy. But, I think I look too jewish for the prairie.
During the youthful period of mankind's spiritual evolution human fantasy created gods in man's own image, who, by the operations of their will were supposed to determine, or at any rate to influence, the phenomenal world. Man sought to alter the disposition of these gods in his own favour by means of magic and prayer.
There is a Hindu myth about the Self or God of the universe who sees life as a form of play. But since the Self is what there is and all that there is and thus has no one separate to play with, he plays the cosmic game of hide-and-seek with himself. He takes on the roles and masks of individual people such as you and I and thus becomes involved in exciting and terrifying adventures, all the time forgetting who he really is.
I think that because I'm overweight, [my] fantasy was lightness. So I project my fantasy to the clothes, and now all I do is light, light clothes because it's the one thing I don't have. That is why I'm too afraid to lose weight because then I might make heavy clothes.
When you're used to getting just a piece of bread for a meal, you don't realize that you can ask for a plate of pasta. You have never seen a plate of pasta. You don't even know it exists. So, to ask for it is totally out of your reality. Hopefully, at some point, either someone shows you a plate of pasta, you read about it, or you hear about it enough so that it becomes real, and it's not just a fantasy anymore, and then you start thinking "Hey, I want that pasta."
I think that I am the luckiest cat on the planet and I'm living out my own dreams and fantasies and have been for a number of years and to remain at this stage of my life, you know, so alive and things have never been better.
The game lends itself to fantasies about our abilities.
Very little in science fiction can transcend the gimmickry of a technical conceit, yet without that conceit at its heart a book is not truly science fiction. Furthermore, so little emerging thought and technology is employed by sf writers today that the genre is lagging far behind reality both in the cosmology area and the technology area: sf is no longer a place to experiment, but is now very derivative.
Repentance is but a denying of our will, and an opposition of our fantasies.
Love is the exchange of two fantasies and the contact of two skins.
It's the relationships between people that are more important than the sort of far away fantasies of what the good life is, the world of supermodels and Bud ads.
Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.
Men are always doomed to be duped, not so much by the arts of the other as by their own imagination. They are always wooing goddesses, and marrying mere mortals.
Childish fantasy, like the sheath over the bud, not only protects but curbs the terrible budding spirit, protects not only innocence from the world, but the world from the power of innocence.
Reverie is the groundwork of creative imagination; it is the privilege of the artist that with him it is not as with other men an escape from reality, but the means by which he accedes to it.
We are tired who follow after fantasy and truth that flies: You with only look and laughter stain our hearts with richest dyes.
A dream is always simmering below the conventional surface of speech and reflection.
The imagination is the secret and marrow of civilization. It is the very eye of faith.
Imagination is like a lofty building reared to meet the sky; whereas fancy is a balloon that soars at the wind's will.
The more we see the more we must be able to imagine, and the more we imagine, the more we must think we see.
I have imagination, and nothing that is real is alien to me.
The imagination and the senses cannot be gratified at the same time.
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