Quotes About Imagination

Why do I love writing? I can be who I want, do what I want, hurt who I want, and make the world over, just the way I'd love to have it.

Imagination is a gift waiting to be opened. A writer must peel back the wrapping and share that offering with the world.

That great moment when a plot twist appears in your story, one you never thought of, one coming from some hidden place in your mind.

There is no fiction. There's only truth disguised as fiction

As does a magician, a writer creates a world, immerses the reader in it, & makes the reader believe it's reality.

Imagination is a writer's refuge and a renewable source of energy.

Given the state of airlines and airports these days, I travel extensively by opening a book.

A writer is never unemployed.

Imagination creates its own possibilities.

When writing a sentence or phrase, ask yourself if you've ever heard or read it before. If you have, it's a cliché. Get rid of it.

Sometimes,I open a book I wrote. Reading the words, they seem to have come from some hidden recess of my mind, far from my waking self, from another mysterious realm. It's a mystery to me. It's the magic of the mind.

No matter how you describe a protagonist, each reader has a personal vision of that character. Leave room for the reader's imagination.

A reader wants, above all, to feel a range of emotions--excitement, love, hate, misery, and everything in between them; wants to breathe characters' air & see the world through their eyes.

I've lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.

Reality can be beaten with enough imagination.

Now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates.

You adapt yourself, Paul Klee said, to the contents of the paintbox. Adapting yourself to the contents of the paintbox, he said, is more important than nature and its study. The painter, in other words, does not fit the paints to the world. He most certainly does not fit the world to himself. He fits himself to the paint. The self is the servant who bears the paintbox and its inherited contents.

The idea of a thing which a man framed for himself was always more real to him than the actual thing itself.

It should surprise no one that the life of the writer—such as it is—is colorless to the point of sensory deprivation. Many writers do little else but sit in rooms recalling the real world. This explains why so many books describe the author's childhood. A writer's childhood may well have been the occasion of his only firsthand experience.

Why didn't someone hand those newly sighted people paints and brushes from the start, when they still didn't know what anything was? Then maybe we all could see color-patches too, the world unraveled from reason, Eden before Adam gave names. The scales would drop from my eyes; I'd see trees like men walking; I'd run down the road against all orders, allowing and leaping.

The physicality of storytelling must remain strong.

At four Petie took to yelling at the heavenly bodies: —Hey, orbs! Wait for me! or, Orbs…listen to this! A genius, Lou thought; he commanded constellations. Clearly a poet.

Our reading was subversive, and we knew it... I was now believing books more than I believed what I saw and heard... What I sought in books was imagination. It was depth, depth of thought and feeling... What I sought in books was a world (that)... actually matched the exaltation of the interior life.

Books swept me away, one after the other, this way and that; I made endless vows according to their lights, for I believed them.