So vast, so limitless in capacity is man’s imagination to disperse and burn away the rubble-dross of fact and probability, leaving only truth and dream.
A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.
You gave too much rein to your imagination. Imagination is a good servant, and a bad master. The simplest explanation is always the most likely.
When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.
There would be far less suffering amongst mankind, if men—and God knows why they are so fashioned—did not employ their imaginations so assiduously in recalling the memory of past sorrow, instead of bearing their present lot with equanimity.
The imagination is always restless, and suggests variety of thoughts, and the will, reason being laid aside, is ready for every extravagant project, and in this state, he that goes farthest out the way, is thought fittest to lead, and is sure of most followers: and when fashion hath once established what folly or craft began, custom makes it sacred, and it will be thought impudence, or madness, to contradict or question it. He that will impartially survey the nations of the world, will find so much of the governments, religion, and manners brought in and continued amongst them by these means, that they will have but little reverence for the practices which are in use and credit amongst men.