My wild imagination was playing tricks on me, I decided.

It was all wrong, and he was almost certain his imagination wasn't playing tricks.

She now tells stories in which the imagination plays an important part.

Often he would focus so hard that his imagination played tricks.

Even with that I'm beginning to question whether my eyes or imagination were playing tricks on me.

Her imagination, like a child awakened from long sleep, played about the room.

Even imagination and ideas do not play a role in this relation.

His imagination was playing tricks on him, as it always did.

His imagination was playing games with him, and he knew it.

I have been describing a life in which, plainly, imagination of one sort or another played the dominant part.