True, I talk of dreams.
Which are the children of an idle brain.
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy. [ William Shakespeare ]

True love's the gift which God has given
To man alone beneath the heaven;
It is not fantasy's hot fire,
Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly;
It liveth not in fierce desire,
With dead desire it doth not die;
It is the secret sympathy.
The silver link, the silken tie.
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,
In body and in soul can bind. [ Walter Scott ]

Who does know the bent of woman's fantasy. [ Spenser ]

The age of divine fantasy is gone, never to return. [ Friedrich Schiller ]

Dreams are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as the air, and more inconstant than the wind. [ William Shakespeare ]

Love has the tendency of pressing together all the lights, all the rays emitted from the beloved object, by the burning-glass of fantasy, into one focus, and making of them one radiant sun without spots. [ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ]