Quotes About Imagination

Shakespeare's exquisite imagining belies our total inability to live in the present moment.

Memory is always in art, even when it works involuntarily.

La escritura mala es toda igual; la buena escritura es de una diversidad escandalosa.

The inventor knows HOW to borrow.

Imaginative literature is otherness, and as such alleviates loneliness

Oscar Wilde's "beautiful untrue things" that save the imagination from falling into "careless habits of accuracy.

Almost anything at all can be transmuted into a labyrinth.

The central image for freedom in Lucretius is the clinamen or sudden "swerve." As the atoms in the cosmos fall downward and outward they capriciously swerve, and this change in direction provides for our freedom of will. Last poems, as I read them, execute clinamens in regard to a previous poetic career. They assert a final freedom for the imagination

Dill was off again. Beautiful things floated around in his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions. He could add and subtract faster than lightning, but he preferred his own twilight world, a world where babies slept, waiting to be gathered like morning lilies.

Nothin's real scary except in books.

I was not so sure, but Jem told me I was being a girl, that girls always imagined things, that's why other people hated them so, and if I started behaving like one I could just go off and find some to play with.

I had never thought about it, but summer was Dill by the fishpool smoking string, Dill's eyes alive with complicated plans to make Boo Radley emerge; summer was the swiftness with which Dill would reach up and kiss me when Jem was not looking, the longings we sometimes felt each other feel. With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable

He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions. He could add and subtract faster than lightning, but he preferred his own twilight world, a world where babies slept, waiting to be gathered like morning lilies. He was slowly talking himself to sleep and taking me with him, but in the quietness of his foggy island there rose the faded image of gray house with sad brown doors.

Thus we came to know Dill as a pocket Merlin, whose head teemed with eccentric plans, strange longings, and quaint fancies - Scout

Dill was off again. Beautiful things floated around in his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions.

Miss Caroline seemed unaware that the ragged, denim-shirted and floursack-skirted first grade, most of whom had chopped cotton and fed hogs from the time they were able to walk, were immune to imaginative literature.

Shoulder up, I reeled around to face Boo Radley and his bloody fangs; instead, I saw Dill ringing the bell with all his might in Atticus's face.

Dill Büyünce palyaço olaca??m, dedi. Jem ve ben bakakald?k. Evvet! Palyaço. Ä°nsanlara gülmenin d???nda bir ÅŸey yapm?yorum. Onun için bir sirke girip kat?lana dek güleceÄŸim. Sen ÅŸa??rm??s?n Dill, dedi Jem. Palyaçolar üzgündür. Ä°nsanlar onlara güler.

When it was time to play Boo's big scene, Jem would sneak into the house, steal the scissors from the sewingmachine drawer when Calpurnia's back was turned, then sit in the swing and cut up newspapers. Dill would walk by, cough at Jem, and Jem would fake a plunge into Dill's thigh. From where I stood it looked real.

Asked him and he said he wasn't. Besides, nothin's real scary except on books.

Thereafter the summer passed in routine contentment. Routine contentment was: improving our treehouse that rested between giant twin chinaberry trees in the back yard, fussing, running through our list of dramas based on the works of Oliver Optic, Victor Appleton, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. (...) Thus we came to know Dill as a pocket Merlin, whose head teemed with eccentric plans, strange longings, and quaint fancies.

Jem scooped up an armful of dirt, patted it into a mound on which he added another load, and another until he had constructed a torso. Jem, I ain't never heard of a nigger snowman, I said.

Jem, naturally, was Boo: he went under the front steps and shrieked and howled from time to time.

I think I'll be a clown when I get grown,' said Dill. Jem and I stopped in our tracks. 'Yes sir, a clown,' he said. 'There ain't one thing in this world I can do about folks except laugh, so I'm gonna join the circus and laugh my head off.' 'You got it backwards, Dill,' said Jem. 'Clowns are sad, it's folks that laugh at them.