Quotes About Imagination

There's nothing quite as good as folding up into a book and shutting the world outside.

The first-born in every family is always dreaming for an imaginary older brother or sister who will look out for them.

The essence of childhood, of course, is play, which my friends and I did endlessly on streets that we reluctantly shared with traffic.

The future remains unwritten, but I'm writing as fast as I can!

Sometimes you wake up in the morning and wish your parents had never met.

Music has always been a place where anything is possible--a refuge, a magical world where anyone can go, where all kinds of people can come together, and anything can happen. We are limited only by our imaginations.

I really had a lot of dreams when I was a kid, and I think a great deal of that grew out of the fact that I had a chance to read a lot.

The things that happen in fiction mirror those things that have happened ---or will happen soon --- in real life.

In the middle of the night: "Wouldn't it be nice if we could dream together?" O whispers.

Wouldn't it be nice if there weree a planet where the sound of rain falling is like Bach?" he says. "Yes, Planet Bach," I respond. He smiles -"Yes", he murmurs- picturing it, hearing it.

Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Heres Tom with the Weather.

Wouldn't you like to see a positive LSD story on the news? To base your decision on information rather than scare tactics and superstition? Perhaps? Wouldn't that be interesting? Just for once? "Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration – that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There's no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.

Life is only a dream and we are only the imagination of ourselves.

How about a positive LSD story? Wouldn't that be news-worthy, just the once? To base your decision on information rather than scare tactics and superstition and lies? I think it would be news-worthy. 'Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration. That we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we're the imagination of ourselves' . . . 'Here's Tom with the weather.

Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There's no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we're the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.' 'Wow! Did you see the news?

We all need new ideas, images, and experiences far more than we need new stoves or cars or computers.

Vision is a picture of the future that produces passion.

When we dream with God, we become the masterpieces of His imagination.

by yielding to His will by dipping into the stream. My concern has little to do with anyone agreeing with me on the subject of sovereignty. My concern is that we will miss the heart of God for His people, for He is much more extravagant in His will for us than we have an imagination to capture. The bottom line is that many wait for Him to act. And oftentimes it is He who is waiting for us. We must learn to respond to what He's given us with acts of faith.

So many of us live in a "virtual reality;" it feels real and looks real, but it isn't real.

I'm up late again - It's almost 6 am. I'm trying to imagine some better answers, to break the spell and free them from the stone.

War, except in self-defense, is a failure of moral imagination.

Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvelous.

Sharing is the essence of teaching. It is, I have come to believe, the essence of civilization . . . Without it, the imagination is but the echo of the self, trapped in a soundproof chamber, reverberating upon itself until it is spent in exhaustion or futility