"Keep watch," was all he said as he let his body take care of staying in the saddle while his mind wove the clean, fierce sunlight.

Her mind was weaving through unfamiliar images, one right after another. . . . She closed her eyes and felt pain for the first time . . . opened them.

When no other reason, like genetic predisposition, can be summoned, the mind weaves the most tenuous strands of information into an imagined cause.

His mind had weaved for him a living fantasy, a story that had no certain foundation, no real truth.

He tried to widen the web his mind wove, and shadows fell around him as though a cloud had grown to cover the sky.

Except that he hadn't quite forgotten it, and his mind had woven it into the dream.

But most important, their twenty- and twenty-one-year-old minds wove a tapestry of a land of lascivious, beautiful women who lusted for such magnificent specimens of manhood as themselves.

My subconscious sifts material that my conscious mind has amassed, and weaves it into surreal tableaux.

Thoughts come unbidden, the mind weaving its perspectives, assembling meaning from emotion and memory.

But in Faerian drama you are in a dream that some other mind is weaving, and the knowledge of that alarming fact may slip from your grasp.