Lovers and madmen have such seething brainsSuch shaping fantasies that apprehendMore than cool reason ever comprehends.The lunatic the lover and the poetAre of imagination all compactOne sees more devils than vast hell can holdThat is the madman the lover all as franticSees Helens beauty in a brow of EgyptThe poets eye in fine frenzy rollingDoth glance from heaven to earth from earth to heavenAnd as imagination bodies forthThe forms of things unknown the poets penTurns them to shapes and gives to airy nothingA local habitation and a name.

She didnt say it I only thought she said it. So really it was my thought my words and not hers. How could I confuse I love you with May I take your order

Mortals were such fickle creatures. They called into the dark demanded answers and attention from forces they could not comprehend and yet when they had that attention and those answers they complained about them.

Today is a fantasy for tomorrow has gone and yesterday is here

The idea of fairyland fascinates me because its one of those things like mermaids and dragons that doesnt really exist but everyone knows about it anyway. Fairyland lies only in the eye of the beholder who is usually a fabricator of fantasy. So what good is it this enchanted fickle land which in some tales bodes little good to humans and in others is the land of peace and perpetual summer where everyone longs to be Perhaps its just a glimpse of our deepest wishes and greatest fears the farthest boundaries of our imaginations. We go there because we can we come back because we must. What we see there becomes our tales.

Everyone needs to escape sometimes and retreating into somebody elses fantasy isnt nearly as satisfying as slipping into your own.

From dreams of bliss shall men awakeone day but not to weepthe dreams remain they only breakthe mirror of their sleep.

Have you ever felt as if your dreams were more memorable more alive than what you knew to be reality Have your dreams ever seemed so tangible as to make you question upon waking if youd truly only dreamt them Have they at times been addictive enough to consume your waking hours blurring actuality and pretend together until your wishes and passions stare back at you with open eyesIf only dreams could be reality that beautiful garden of sweet-smelling roses we all long for. But reality for me is no such bed of roses. It is nothing but a field of unwanted dandelions.- From the thoughts of Annabelle Fancher

Someone smashed a flutterfler and without even thinking she touched her Stone and used Wyrd to piece its broken body back together. She filled its empty vessels with dreams and it became the stuff it used for blood. It brushed her cheek with its wings then flew off -- dancing in the hot air.

Because it begins to seem to me at such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in real life because it has seemed to me that I have lost all touch all instinct for the actual the real because at last I have cursed myself because after my fantastic nights I have moments of returning sobriety which are awful Meanwhile you hear the whirl and roar of the crowd in the vortex of life around you you hear you see men living in reality you see that life for them is not forbidden that their life does not float away like a dream like a vision that their life is being eternally renewed eternally youthful and not one hour of it is the same as another while fancy is so spiritless monotonous to vulgarity and easily scared the slave of shadows of the idea the slave of the first cloud that shrouds the sun... One feels that this inexhaustible fancy is weary at last and worn out with continual exercise because one is growing into manhood outgrowing ones old ideals they are being shattered into fragments into dust if there is no other life one must build one up from the fragments. And meanwhile the soul longs and craves for something else And in vain the dreamer rakes over his old dreams as though seeking a spark among the embers to fan them into flame to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet that touched his heart that set his blood boiling drew tears from his eyes and so luxuriously deceived him