Quotes About Imagination

My dear, try to believe we exist when you aren't there. We're independent of you. None of us is like you fancy we are. Perhaps it wouldn't matter much if your thoughts were not so dark, always so dark.

Through the cold night air the Assistant Commissioner imagined for a moment that between the verses he could hear the footsteps of the warders pacing in the tower.

Africa will always be the Africa of the Victorian atlas, the blank unexplored continent the shape of the human heart.

Graham Greene

In onze jeugd zijn alle boeken toekomstvoorspellingen.

The fey wonders of the world only exist while there are those with the sight to see them. CHARLES DE LINT

Jake, we haven't tried for awhile. Tried what? Just to walk out. No. Why haven't we? Because we're in a place where a horse shits rainbows. Right.

The sun was up and I want to say that it was golden, but it wasn't golden, it was the color of treacle. I want to say the grass was green, but it wasn't, it was turquoise, the color of a quarry pool. The rocks were lion-colored and glimmered with quartz, and the sky I wanted to call blue was in reality lilac. And the colors were moist. It was as much as I could do to prevent myself from getting off the horse and putting my hands into these colors, to see if they would come off on my fingers.

His father had been slightly ahead, carrying sister Zoe. There were creatures looking at him from behind the blue slate rocks; they pointed their fingers and smiled cruel smiles. He felt safe in his mother's papoose (facing backwords) but was still afraid of the creatures. He was only just old enough to talk. He'd tried to make a sound but he was almost mesmerized by the creatures stirring in the wake of the family's passage.

Todo lo que oyes o ves o tocas o hueles está ligado a una historia, una historia que yo puedo contarte. Si dices «beicon», puedo contarte una historia. Si dices «nieve», puedo contarte una docena de historias distintas. Eso somos: una serie de historias que hemos compartido, que tenemos en común. Eso somos el uno para el otro.

A secret face only the dreamers can see. Awake, you can't see the truths beneath the surface.

The things that dominate our imagination determine our lives and our character. Therefore it behoves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming.

Since no vistas were presenting themselves in this void, Magnus would conjure his own. If he was going to spend an eternity in this place, then he would be damned if he'd do it bored.

You may think your tribute is paid in secret in the recesses of your heart, but it will out. We are a curious species when it comes to worship. The things that dominate our imagination determine our lives and our character. Therefore it behoves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming. - Kyril Sindermann

Some things, some places perhaps take up their truer existence in the mind.

A complete fiction! Yet something that was clearly and completely fiction could also contain—this was the nub and the mystery of the matter—truth.

Can a mirror keep a print? Can you look into a mirror and see someone else? Can you step through a mirror and be someone else?

Le parole erano come una pelle invisibile, che avvolgeva il mondo rendendolo reale.

Sometimes you wonder, in an interconnected universe, who's dreaming who?

These characters were like twelve-bar blues or other chord progressions. Given the basic parameters of Batman, different creators could play very different music.

Animal Man: 'Listen, just tell me one thing: am I REAL or what?' Grant Morrison: 'Of COURSE you're real! We wouldn't be here talking if you weren't real. 'You existed long before I wrote about you and, if you're lucky, you'll still be young when I'm old or dead. 'You're more real than I am.

People look at us and see the poor and the mad, but they're looking at us through the bars of their cages. There's a palace in your head, boy. Learn to live in it always.

Modern man has successfully razed the imaginative landscapes of primal peoples the whole world over. Kill the gods first, slaughter the sacred animals, rewrite the mythologies, and build roads through the holy places. Do all this and watch the people decline. Without souls, they soon die, leaving dead shells, zombie cultures, shambling aimlessly towards oblivion.

We live in the stories we tell ourselves.