|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|Some things are of that nature as to make|
Ones fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.
BunyanPilgrims Progress. The Authors Way of Sending Forth his Second Part of the Pilgrim. Pt. II.
|While fancy, like the finger of a clock,|
Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.
CowperThe Task. Bk. IV. L. 118.
|Ever let the Fancy roam,|
Pleasure never is at home.
|The truant Fancy was a wanderer ever.|
LambFancy employed on Divine Subjects. I. 1.
| Sentiment is intellectualized emotion, emotion precipitated, as it were, in pretty crystals by the fancy.|
LowellAmong My Books. Rousseau and the Sentimentalists.
|Two meanings have our lightest fantasies,|
One of the flesh, and of the spirit one.
LowellSonnet XXXIV. Ed. 1844.
|Shes all my fancy painted her,|
Shes lovely, shes divine.
Wm. MeeAlice Gray.
|When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,|
Fancy restores what vengeance snatchd away.
PopeEloisa to Abelard. L. 225.
|The difference is as great between|
The optics seeing as the objects seen.
All manners take a tincture from our own;
Or come discolord through our passions shown;
Or fancys beam enlarges, multiplies,
Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes.
PopeMoral Essays. Ep. 1. L. 31.
|Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains,|
Winning from Reasons hand the reins,
Pity and woe! for such a mind
Is soft, contemplative, and kind.
ScottRokeby. Canto I. St. 31.
| Pacing through the forest,|
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy.
As You Like It. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 101.
|Tell me where is fancy bred,|
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
It is engenderd in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Merchant of Venice. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 63.
| So full of shapes is fancy,|
That it alone is high fantastical.
Twelfth Night. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 14.
|Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;|
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Twelfth Night. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 66.
| We figure to ourselves|
The thing we like, and then we build it up
As chance will have it, on the rock or sand:
For Thought is tired of wandering oer the world,
And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore.
Sir Henry TaylorPhilip Van Artevelde. Pt. I. Act I. Sc. 5.
|Fancy light from Fancy caught.|
TennysonIn Memoriam. Pt. XXIII.
|Sad fancies do we then affect,|
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
Of too familiar happiness.
WordsworthOde to Lycoris.