Quotes About Imagination

You know our Alice. She plays hide-and-seek but sometimes forgets to ask someone to look for her.

But this was fancy; she was succumbing to fancy in a way she hadn't done before.

How she wanted to put away adult things and go back to seeing through a looking-glass, darkly.

There is a limit to the nonsense even a dream can attempt.

Not everyone can fly by bubble !

So Oxford, at its inception a huddle of theologicians and divines, grew into a city of dreams, and much good may come of that. Little surprise that Middle-earth and Narnia were both discovered here.

Children talk themselves out of their convictions as they grow up and become distracted by their huge selfish selves. All the literature is consistent on this point. Children begin to think they've imagined us.

In my raveling thoughts I flew away, as if my spirit were nestled in the breast feathers of some passing hornbill or waxwing.

Oh, the accident necessary to fiction!

Only, sometimes, in the text of a book here and there, we tap the page with a finger and say, "This is what my lost days were like. Something like this.

Oh, if necessity is the mother of invention, who is the Father? Fantasy.

Those who are roped into bed at night often fall into delusions of flight.

She was of an age that took other people's lives to be pretty fictions, useful merely for adorning the invisible membrane that contained her own singular and glorious existence.

The idea of religion worked for Nessarose, it worked for Frex. There may be no real city in the clouds, but dreaming of it can enliven the spirit.

It doesn't pose or represent the world. It becomes.

Children played at those stories; they dreamed about them. They took them to heart and acted as if to live inside them. We live in our tales of ourselves, she thought, and ignore as best we can the contradictions, and the lapses, and the abrasions of plot against our mortal souls….

I don't believe in the concept of 'real' or 'realer' people. You don't? She smiled, not nicely. When I do disappear again, dearie, I'll surely be less real than I am now.

Can you really say you thought the man who brought this here was a sorcerer? said Elphie. And that this book comes from - another world? Do you even believe in other worlds? I find it a great effort to believe in this one, said Sarima, yet it seems to be here, so why should I trust my skepticism about other worlds? Don't you believe?

In the lives of children, pumpkins can turn into coaches, mice and rats into human beings. When we grow up, we learn that it's far more common for human beings to turn into rats.

In the lives of children, pumpkins can turn into coaches, mice and rats into human beings. When we grow up, we learn that it's far more common for human beings to turn into rats. Nothing

Let's see what we have in the larder. We have eye of newt and toe of frog, carbon-crisp residue of manticore loin, a beaker of all-natural belladonna extract, some wolfbane, some romaine, a poteen of ptomaine, and a few limp radishes in butter, pinched from the platter left out for Marat after his bath, which he never got to since he died therein. Let's have cheerios. I don't know what cheerios are, said Cat. They haven't been invented yet. You'll love them.

You can't criticize the size of a world.

She had that look a child has only a few times in its life, when the child has bettered her betters. The expression isn't smug, though adults often take it for smugness. It's something else. Maybe relief at having confirmed through personal experience the long-held suspicion of our species, that the enchanted world of childhood is merely a mask for something else, a more subtle and paradoxical magic. - p. 157

How very like a dream this all is.