Quotes About Imagination

And in Magic, belief is the most important component

After all, once touched by a unicorn, growing up couldn't be too hard.

a very complicated board game that used miniatures, stacks of books, and strange dice

It is only a fairy tale. They always end sadly.

Mercedes Lackey

Stories ain't about the feller what wrote 'em, even if he pertends they are. They don' even hev t'be true to be right! Stories are 'bout what they make you feel. If'n they make you feel good, an' make y'all wanta be brave, an' good, an' do what's right, thet's the important thing!

And when it comes down to cases, everything written is at least in part a fantasy. Except maybe for the national budget. That's horror.

It's not about the young or the old; it's about anyone who takes something from his or her imagination and makes it real. --Thom Beers, Executive Producer

With what characters she had filled this lost stage of emptiness! It was here that she would see the people of her imagination, the fierce figures of her making, as they strolled from corner to corner, brooded like monsters or flew through the air like seraphs with burning wings, or danced, or fought, or laughed, or cried. This was her attic of make-believe, where she would watch her mind's companions advancing or retreating across the dusty floor.

His mind had been working away behind his high forehead. Unimaginative himself he could recognize imagination in her: he had come upon one whose whole nature was the contradiction of his own. He knew that behind her simplicity was something he could never have. Something he despised as impractical. Something which would never carry her to power or riches, but would retard her progress and keep her apart in a world of her own make-believe. To win her favour he must talk in her own language.

Yet here apparently on this stifling summer afternoon was the eye of Mr. Flay at the outer keyhole of the Hall of the Bright Carvings, and presumably the rest of Mr Flay was joined on behind it.

In great thick dusty books he read And hardly ever went to bed Before it was eleven. - One Day When They Had Settled Down

I enjoy the fantastic and the sheer excitement of having a sheet of white paper and a pen in one's hand and no dictator on earth can say what word I put down – I put down what I want to put down.

Imagination runs most surely over land that it knows.

Prunesquallor was in his study.

As he trilled, as he prattled, as he indulged in his spontaneous 'conceits', as he gestured, fop-like and grotesque, his magnified eyes skidding to and fro behind the lenses of his glasses, like soap at the bottom of a bath, his brain was often other-where, and these days it was well occupied.

Poem Out of the overlapping Leaves of my brain came tapping… Tapping… a voice that is not mine alone: Nor can the woodpecker Claim it as his own: the flicker Deep in the foliage belongs to neither Birds, men or dreams. It is as far away as childhood seems.

Mervyn Peake

who can tell in which direction the minds of phantoms move?)

Of drawing forth a sun from my heart, and making of my burning thoughts a warm atmosphere.

You can live three days without bread – without poetry, never; and those of you who can say the contrary are mistaken; they are out of their minds.

This quote from T.E. Lawrence means a lot to me: All men dream; but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind, possessing and caressing me.

I'm not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I've gotten from books.