Quotes About Imagination

Your boyfriend dive into, like, three feet of water. He didn't come up, either.He is probably drowned or turned into a merman. Honestly, I don't know which would be worse. ..

Ele parece alguma coisa jogada de um helicóptero: sabe como é, o cara perfeito para uma garota necessitada em uma ilha deserta. A garota sendo eu, e a ilha deserta, a minha vida.

If every person living strove to create something beautiful, mightn't we brighten the world enough so that all could see the path to peace?

I don't know why anyone has a living room when they could have a library instead.

We'll never have the stars, will we? To roam as we please?" The plaintiveness of his own words sounded childish. But something tore inside him as he suddenly grasped not only his position in the greater scheme of things, but Humanity's.

My thoughts create my world -Marcus Flutie

The tales we tell ourselves about ourselves makes us who we are.

The great thing about fiction is that you can start off by telling the truth, then start making stuff up like crazy whenever you feel like it.

painted suns and rainbows and guinea pigs

Megan McDonald

Judy hung her head and slunk to the back of the room. She crawled inside the tent. It was kind of like the Toad Pee Club clubhouse inside. Minus any peeing toads, of course. Natch.

Megan McDonald

Megan McDonald

Judy dumped all the markers, crayons, colored pencils, and pastels she had on the floor. Stink grabbed the first blue marker he saw and started to draw. "What are you drawing?" "Bats," said Stink. "Blue bats." "You're bats," said Judy. "People don't like bats." "But bats eat millions of insects," said Stink. "People should like bats.

Stink woke up the next morning, his bed felt as big as a country. The ceiling was up

Webster (the friend, not the dictionary). He wrote a letter to his other best friend, Elizabeth, who liked to be called Sophie of the Elves. He even wrote a letter to his teacher, telling her how great he was at writing letters.

Muse of poetry, come to his aid, I thought. Could the man produce one more metaphor of husbandry? He seemed to be trying. Green wood, I suggested, but even he sensed that there was something unfortunate about a metaphor for a king in which you dry out your royalty before you set fire to it.

Tell me a story then...keep me occupied. A story?...What makes you think I can tell a story? Insight, said the king, Go on.

If the king could make a throne seem like a stool fit for a printer's apprentice, the queen could make a rumpled bedspread into a throne.

That he'd seen...two people, a young man and a woman, sitting on invisible furniture with their feet up, reading books and eating chocolates.

When the Soul wants to experience something she throws out an image in front of her and then steps into it.

The audience comes to the theatre set to believe the story. The actor comes to the theatre to help tell the story, not by tricking himself into believing things he knows aren't true, but by applying the tools he has developed to create an illusion.

Looking for Narnia? You're in the wrong universe

A picture is worth a thousand texts.