Quotes About Imagination

Vesta was so good with paperwork – you could hand her a file of drab, seemingly dull information and she'd construct a story from it worthy of a novel.

I spend a lot of time imagining things - in fact, you could say that imagining things is my job.

He prefers his adventures second hand.

I am more one for the story, I think, than the action.

Sometimes I create a character from a scrap - a mere mention that has been left behind.

Small details are a vital part of allowing a reader to make an imaginative connection with long dead historical figures.

The best historical stories capture the modern imagination because they are, in many senses, still current - part of a continuum.

A paucity of material can open up just as many possibilities.

I know a lot of writers, and everyone works differently, but this is something that we truly have in common across all genres - the fiction has to be real inside your head.

It's entirely possible to base an entire book on a long-forgotten letter.

A word out of place or an interesting choice of vocabulary can spawn a whole character.

While what I write is always largely consistent with the records that remain I freely admit that where historical fact proves a barrier to invention, I simply move a detail a little one way or another.

At Night Love said, "Wake still and think of me," Sleep, "Close your eyes till break of day," But Dreams came by and smilingly Gave both to Love and Sleep their way.

Only In Sleep Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Annie with ringlets warm and wild. Only in sleep Time is forgotten -- What may have come to them, who can know? Yet we played last night as long ago, And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair. The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, I met their eyes and found them mild -- Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I too a child?

Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Annie with ringlets warm and wild. Only in sleep Time is forgotten– What may have come to them, who can know? Yet we played last night as long ago, And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair. The years had not sharpened their smooth around faces, I met their eyes and found them mild– Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I, too, a child?

The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, I met their eyes and found them mild— Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I too a child?

When I am all alone Envy me most, Then my thoughts flutter round me In a glimmering host; Some dressed in silver, Some dressed in white, Each like a taper Blossoming light; Most of them merry, Some of them grave, Each of them lithe As willows that wave; Some bearing violets, Some bearing bay, One with a burning rose Hidden away– When I am all alone Envy me then, For I have better friends Than women and men.

Your greatest creation is your creative life. It's all in your hands.

Art is a shadow of what a person is thinking... a small glimpse of what they hold inside. Little secrets, regrets, joys... every line has its own meaning.

The best metaphors are a bit magical. They conjure connections that weren't there in our minds before

When well told and well lived by the storytellers, worship, like story itself, offers opportunities for the imagination to be nurtured and transformed.

In my estimation, Moralistic Therapeutic Deism points to a colossal failure of the imagination regarding both the claims and demands of the gospel. The failure isn't primarily on the part of youth or even their parents: it's on the part of the church.

Rarely are youth challenged to take up their cross and follow Jesus down the narrow road called faith—but even when they are, they can't imagine what that really means unless someone famous makes a movie out of it. Without

Part of the magic of the imagination is that it can conjure something out of nothing except the simple medium of words until the hearer really feels as though she's experiencing a multisensory event.