Quotes About Imagination

I am not your wife. We are strangers. Did I imagine that wedding service we attended together in a small church in Devon? he asked. Did I imagine that we consummated the marriage in a very thorough manner for two nights?

I cannot imagine anyone having such a criminal lack of sense.

I will treat it as a fantasy. A romantic fantasy. I will make you fall in love with me all over again.

Add water, and the soil is so fertile that you could plant a pencil and harvest a book.

By comparison he could read her like an illustrated children's story.

Its not lying, it's remembering things the way they should have been.

When the bet is placed, he said, a moment is carved away from the past and the future. In that enchanted moment, anything is possible. A man's debts and regrets and limitations disappear. He is buyin' the chance to imagine - for one moment at a time - that th enext card I deal will make him rich.

By the time we got to Ferrington, I was laughing at Will's stories about Rockpoint High. It seemed the kids gave the teachers a hard time; they were always cutting up and saying funny things. Will was good at imitating their Down-East accents, but I had a feeling Susan was right about his not having any friends. It sounded as if he spent most of his school day watching and listening.

The logic behind magic is that we create what we are imagining.

If the wrong reader comes across the words, they will remain just words. But for the right readers, your vision blooms off the page and is absorbed into their minds like smoke, where it will re-form, whole and alive, fully adapted to its new environment.

I watched voyeuristically, knowing I was peeping at people in the middle of a collective dream. I imagined myself among them, part of the regimental dance, the teacher's rosy heat, the huge mobile hope of happiness and vitality. And as I watched, it suddenly occurred to me I had been merely watching the world all my life.

Approach your lives as if they were novels, with their own heroes, villains, red herrings, and triumphs

The head can travel a far piece while the body sits in one spot. It can traverse many decades, and many conversations can be had, even with the dead.

In those days, I still enjoyed a child's desperate tendency to put sparkles on my whole tribe.

When you do try to picture the boys who do ask you out, they're absolutely featureless, like old carvings eroded by centuries of rain and wind.

Now try writing some pages to serve as later notes. Because you're not yet sure of voice or anything else, you're free from the need to squash in all manner of background information, explaining what year it is, etc. That stuff will just get you back in your head and drive you nuts. You're free to write as if all that stuff is in the reader's head already. It will be, by the time you get to this part of the book. You

I've plumb forgot where I am for an instant, which is how a good lie should take you.

Most kids bent their heads onto their notebooks and tried to sleep. One boy gauged the quality of his day by sleeping on graph paper, then drawing a circle around the drool spot he'd made and comparing it for size and integrity to his drool spot from the day before. For

Joyce's Portrait of the Artist

Weaved a different story in my head Painted it like glitter in the swamp

Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.

So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world. And live your life.

On the beach, at dawn: Four small stones clearly Hugging each other. How many kinds of love Might there be in the world, And how many formations might they make And who am I ever To imagine I could know Such a marvelous business? When the sun broke It poured willingly its light Over the stones That did not move, not at all, Just as, to its always generous term, It shed its light on me, My own body that loves, Equally, to hug another body.

Sometimes I dream that everything in the world is here, in my room, in a great closet, named and orderly, and I am here too, in front of it, hardly able to see for the flash and the brightness— and sometimes I am that madcap person clapping my hands and singing; and sometimes I am that quiet person down on my knees.