Woolgather meaning

Verb: woolgather

Woolgather meaning:

• Have a daydream; indulge in a fantasy

Synonyms: dream, daydream, stargaze
Derived forms: woolgathered, woolgathering, woolgathers

Quotations:

1. Anne Lamott – There should be a real sense of your imagination and your memories walking and woolgathering, tramping the hills, romping all over the place. Trust them. Don’t look at your feet to see if you are doing it right. Just dance.
2. Anne Lamott – You get your confidence and intuition back by trusting yourself, by being militantly on your own side. You need to trust yourself, especially on a first draft, where amid the anxiety and self-doubt, there should be a real sense of your imagination and your memories walking and woolgathering, tramping the hills, romping all over the place. Trust them. Don’t look at your feet to see if you are doing it right. Just dance.
3. Julia Quinn – He poked her shoulder. ‘Ellie? Ellie?”What? Oh, I’m sorry.’ Her face colored, even though she knew he couldn’t possibly read her thoughts. ‘Just woolgathering.”Darling, you were practically hugging a sheep.
4. Lauren Smith – She is going to be the death of me. “Lucien! You’re not even listening to me, are you? I’m in desperate need of a new valet and you’ve been woolgathering rather than offering suggestions. I daresay you have enough for a decent coat and a pair of mittens by now.” Lucien Russell, the Marquess of Rochester, looked to his friend Charles. They were walking down Bond Street, Lucien keeping careful watch over one particular lady without her knowledge and Charles simply enjoying the chance for an outing. The street was surprisingly crowded for so early in the day and during such foul wintry weather. “Admit it,” Charles prodded. Lucien fought to focus on his friend. “Sorry?” The Earl of Lonsdale fixed him with a stern glare which, given that his usual manner tended towards jovial, was a little alarming. “Where is your head? You’ve been out of sorts all morning.” Lucien grunted. He had no intention of explaining himself. His thoughts were sinful ones, ones that would lead him straight to a fiery spot in Hell, assuming one wasn’t already reserved for him. All because of one woman.
5. Beryl Dov – Dreamcoat Dad gave me his coat.What can I say?It was totally rad and totally gay.At once colorful and striped,en wrought with threads of gold,the embroidery depicted life,the collar frayed upon the fold.Upon awakening I was caught in a dream,my woolgather but a sideshow to God’s tangled scheme.Though the sun, moon, and eleven stars all bow before me,I miss that ragged coat,my brother’slevied scars,and most of all I miss misting my dad’s olive tree.

Sample sentences:

1. The multiplication of technologies in the name of efficiency is actually eradicating free time by making it possible to maximize the time and place for production and minimize the unstructured travel time in between…Too, the rhetoric of efficiency around these technologies suggests that what cannot be quantified cannot be valued-that that vast array of pleasures which fall into the category of doing nothing in particular, of woolgathering, cloud-gazing, wandering, window-shopping, are nothing but voids to be filled by something more definite, more production, or faster-paced…I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought or thoughtfulness.
2. Daphne turned to Simon with an amused expression. “I can’t quite decide if she is being terribly polite or exquisitely rude.” “Exquisitely polite, perhaps?” Simon asked mildly. She shook her head. “Oh, definitely not that.” “The alternative, of course, is—” “Terribly rude?” Daphne grinned and watched as her mother looped her arm through Lord Railmont’s, pointed him toward Daphne so that he could nod his good-bye, and led him from the room. And then, as if by magic, the remaining beaux murmured their hasty farewells and followed suit. “Remarkably efficient, isn’t she?” Daphne murmured. “Your mother? She’s a marvel.” “She’ll be back, of course.” “Pity. And here I thought I had you well and truly in my clutches.” Daphne laughed. “I don’t know how anyone considered you a rake. Your sense of humor is far too superb.” “And here we rakes thought we were so wickedly droll.” “A rake’s humor,” Daphne stated, “is essentially cruel.” Her comment surprised him. He stared at her intently, searching her brown eyes, and yet not really knowing what it was he was looking for. There was a narrow ring of green just outside her pupils, the color as deep and rich as moss. He’d never seen her in the daylight before, he realized. “Your grace?” Daphne’s quiet voice snapped him out of his daze. Simon blinked. “I beg your pardon.” “You looked a thousand miles away,” she said, her brow wrinkling. “I’ve been a thousand miles away.” He fought the urge to return his gaze to her eyes. “This is entirely different.” Daphne let out a little laugh, the sound positively musical. “You have, haven’t you? And here I’ve never even been past Lancashire. What a provincial I must seem.” He brushed aside her remark. “You must forgive my woolgathering. We were discussing my lack of humor, I believe?” “We were not, and you well know it.
3. Dr. Finch clenched his hands and tucked them under his chin. “Human birth is most unpleasant. It’s messy, it’s extremely painful, sometimes it’s a risky thing. It is always bloody. So is it with civilization. The South’s in its last agonizing birth pain. It’s bringing forth something new and I’m not sure I like it, but I won’t be here to see it. You will. Men like me and my brother are obsolete and we’ve got to go, but it’s a pity we’ll carry with us the meaningful things of this society—there were some good things in it.” “Stop woolgathering and answer me!” Dr. Finch stood up, leaned on the table, and looked at her. The lines from his nose sprang to his mouth and made a harsh trapezoid. His eyes blazed, but his voice was still quiet: “Jean Louise, when a man’s looking down the double barrel of a shotgun, he picks up the first weapon he can find to defend himself, be it a stone or a stick of stove wood or a citizens’ council.
4. Break all the rules of Poetry. Place no limits on your poetry. Live a little. Break all the fucking rules! If it comes deep from the wellsprings of your imagination,the woolgathering of dreamers, it is poetry, no matter what anyone says.
5. Directly his eye lights upon a fresh ‘skirt’ his wits are off woolgathering on the spot.
6. But surely one’s mind must be curiously at random to go to such woolgathering.
7. “Just woolgathering,” she said. “I was thinking about the time we held a revival.
8. I trust that your good man here is not jealous, for beauty, you well do ken, ever sends the wits of a Douglas woolgathering.
9. With his wits thus woolgathering as he walked, he one day suddenly tumbled into a pit.
10. Really, God thought with annoyance, this woolgathering—at such a moment!
11. Master Pennybet, in the common way of tired children, finished the day in listless woolgathering.
12. Mrs. Ferrall’s wits returned nimbly from woolgathering, and she shot a startled, inquiring glance at the girl beside her.
13. Oliver Cromwell was then in London, having come to town with three wagon loads of wool, but his wits were not woolgathering.
14. Your wits are gone a woolgathering; saying to an absent man, one in a reverie, or absorbed in thought.