Quotes About Imagination

So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?

What the war did to dreamers.

Here's what I mean by the miracle of language. When you're falling into a good book, exactly as you might fall into a dream, a little conduit opens, a passageway between a reader's heart and a writer's, a connection that transcends the barriers of continents and generations and even death ... And here's the magic. You're different. You can never go back to being exactly the same person you were before you disappeared into that book.

The brain is locked in total darkness, of course, children, says the voice. It floats in a clear liquid inside the skull, never in the light. And yet the world it constructs in the mind is full of light. It brims with color and movement. So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?

Fairy tales and folk tales are for children and childlike people, not because they are little and inconsequential, but because they are as enormous as life itself.

For in those days I had no idea that many of the greatest books are like a forest, and that the best way to get to know them is to wander right into the middle and get lost.

For the first time in human history, most people are doing things that could never interest a child enough to want to tag along. That says less about the child than about us.

Art reveals to us the mysteries of our existence, or perhaps reveals to us for the first time that there are mysteries at all.

In other words, man's imagination, when it is not corrupt, yearns for the holy—to behold its beauty from a distance, to be possessed by it. All the greatest art of the past, pagan and Christian, testifies to this desire. It

The true object of the miraculous stories narrated in the Bible was, Spinoza argued, "to move men, and especially uneducated men, to devotion … not to convince the reason, but to attract and lay hold of the imagination.

There's not a good poet I know who has not at the beck and call of his memory a vast quantity of poetry that composes his mental library.

Well, everyone likes movies when they're a little kid.

But I'm not sure it actually matters what we read. Our lives continue along the straight lines that have been set out for us. Fiction merely allows us a glimpse of the alternative. Maybe that's one of the reasons we enjoy it.

There's a dream world that we visit sometimes and that's how we found out who we are.

That's why life is so different to fiction. Every day is a single page and you have no chance to thumb forward and see what lies ahead.

Anthony Horowitz

But I'm not sure it actually matters what we read. Our lives continue along the straight lines that have been set out for us. Fiction merely allows us a glimpse of the alternative.

You must know that feeling when it's raining outside and the heating's on and you lose yourself, utterly, in a book.

I hear it still. As I lay down my pen and take to my bed, I am aware of the bow being drawn across the bridge and the music rises into the night sky. It is far away and barely audible - but there it is! A pizzicato. Then a tremelo. The style is unmistakable. It is Sherlock Holmes who is playing. It must be. I hope with all my heart that he is playing for me . . .

a detective must occasionally be guided by his worst imaginings – which is to say that he must put himself in the mind of the criminal.

Je l'entends toujours. Alors que je repose mon stylographe et que je me dirige vers mon lit, je perçois l'archet qu'on tire sur le chevalet, et la musique qui s'élève dans le ciel nocturne. C'est lointain et à peine audible - mais c'est là! Un pizzicato. Un trémolo. Le style est impossible à à confondre avec un autre. C'est Sherlock Holmes. ll faut que ce soit lui. J'espère que c'est pour moi qu'il joue...

Theatre, at its best, is a candle that never goes out and all of these productions, along with many more, still burn in my memory.

This was a woman who didn't just go to bed with a book. She went to bed with a library.

But I'm not sure it actually matters what we read. Our lives continue along the straight lines that have been set out for us. Fiction merely allows us a glimpse of the alternative. Maybe that's ones of the reasons we enjoy it.