Lauren Willig Quotes

Women are not in love with me but with the picture of me on the screen. I am merely the canvas on which women paint their dreams.

Not as she is, but as she fills his dream

The person who is "in-love" has the ilusion that his beloved is perfect.

There's something depressing about a young couple helplessly in love. Their state is so perfect, it must be doomed. They project such qualities on their lover that only disappointment can follow.

When turkeys mate they think of swans.

Sometimes we fall in love with the idea of a person and have trouble seeing the real thing.

Imagination which comes into play in falling in love is different from any other. Certainly in my case, and I've fallen in love all my life, one imagines the person to be as you want them to be. They frequently turn out to be someone different, for better or worse.

... imagination robs us in great measure of reality...

Women innately have this weird thing where they try to have a perfect persona - to look perfect, be perfect, act perfect, have their kids look a certain way. Women put so much pressure on themselves.

..there she is, and I am watching her through plexiglass, and she looks like Margo Roth Spiegelman, this girl I have known since I was two–this girl who was an idea that I loved. And it is only now, when she closes her notebook and places it inside a backpack next to her and then stands up and walks toward us, that I realize that the idea is not only wrong by dangerous. What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person.

It will never be perfect, but perfect is overrated. Perfect is boring on live TV.

It's goodbye to reality when love sets in.

Romance is finding your fantasy in people who don't have it.

Women are like dreams, they are never the way you would like to have them.

I read and I read; and I was like a medieval king, I had fallen in love with the picture long before I saw the reality.

You'd rather make up a fantasy version of somebody in your head than be with a real person.

There I went again, building up a glamorous picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.

I loved something I made up, something that's just as dead as Melly is. I made a pretty suit of clothes and fell in love with it. And when Ashley came riding along, so handsome, so different, I put that suit on him and made him wear it whether it fitted him or not. And I wouldn't see what he really was. I kept on loving the pretty clothes—and not him at all.

I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.

I think, in some ways, Michael Jackson is out of touch with reality, and I don't think he has people around him who can say, Michael, can't do this. Michael, you can't do that. Michael, you can't say this. You know, I think he has been so big for so long that he can do whatever he wants to do.

You always start with a fantasy. Part of the fantasy technique is to visualize something as perfect. Then with the experiments you work back from the fantasy to reality, hacking away at the components.

We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.

Perhaps the easiest people to fall in love with are those about whom we know nothing. Romances are never as pure as those we imagine during long train journeys, as we secretly contemplate a beautiful person who is gazing out of the window – a perfect love story interrupted only when the beloved looks back into the carriage and starts up a dull conversation about the excessive price of the on-board sandwiches with a neighbour or blows her nose aggressively into a handkerchief.

Sometimes it's just enough for me to have the idea. I don't need to see it through to the end. When it actually happens, I'm always disappointed because it's never like what I imagined in my head. When an idea becomes a reality, then it's a job. I'd rather just think about it.

Lovers have lived so long with giants and elves, they won't believe again in their own size.