Quotes About Imagination

Her words squiggled onto the page like the laces of a girl running for her life with untied boots.

They don't know. It's not their fault. What are they supposed to do when they've been told their whole lives not to believe in fairy tales?

We had started thinking of ourselves not in terms of things that we had done, but in terms of what we were going to do.

There was a way that you could sleep properly when a house had been straightened up, when all the Ranger Ricks were put up on the shelf and the toys were put in the plastic box and tomorrow's clothes were laid out neatly on a chair. But then again, when everything was left out all over the floor and the dishes were still in the sink, there was a way that you could dream.

What are they supposed to do when they've been told their whole lives not to believe in fairy tales?

Scientists could make a human, but they could not make an artist.

Zwölf ist ein wunderschönes und bemerkenswertes Alter; um diese Zeit fangen Kinder an, große Töne zu spucken und zu überlegen, wie sie es allein schaffen könnten: genau wie Engel, unmittelbar bevor sie aus dem Himmel vertrieben werden. Sie haben solch unschuldige und gefährliche Ideen.

It might seem like the easier way to get rid of a poet would be just to take him out to the backyard, have him kneel between the cans with tomato plants in them and put a bullet in his brain. But they knew from history that it doesn't work to kill a writer. Every time you shoot a poet,a dozen new ones are born. It's like plucking a grey hair.

If you can imagine something, then it is possible within the physical laws of this universe. So says some Greek philosopher.

There was this professional hockey player that I liked. I imagined him watching at the parade and falling in love with me. It didn't occur to me that he probably wasn't interested in twelve-year-olds.

Lonely children probably wrote the bible

Humans were always more capable of evil than you could imagine. And they were also capable of more wonderment than you could ever fathom. People had come up with this city. And what was different between them and her? They had hands and eyes. They had imaginations. They went to bed at night, and they had funny adventures in their heads. Anything was possible. But the effects

When he was a baby, he didn't do much of anything at all. He wouldn't even sit up but just lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

People became free in literature first. It was through books that new ideas entered the general population.

If you want to get a child to love you, then you should just go and hide in the closet for three or four hours. They get down on their knees and pray for you to return. That child will turn you into God. Lonely children probably wrote the Bible.

It was good to have an imagination if you were a girl and living in Montreal at the beginning of the twentieth century. Intelligence was what she needed. But she never listened to anyone.

Ich las das langweilige Buch, schlief darüber ein, im Schlafe träumte ich, weiter zu lesen, erwachte vor Langeweile, und das dreimal.

Von allen Welten, die der Mensch erschaffen hat, ist die der Bücher die Gewaltigste.

Besides, ghost-stories are even more blood-curdling if you are reading them on a journey, especially at night, in a town, in a house, in a room where you have never been before. How many horrific events may already have taken place on the very spot where you are lying?—that is what you cannot help wondering.

But fiction is not, as many nonwriters seem to think, a random grab bag of made-up whimsies, as undisciplined and unreasoned as a dream. Nor is it simply reporting with the names changed. It is an amalgam of experience, education, reading, insight, analysis, conversations, observation, and conscious research.

One minute you're closer to someone than anyone in the whole world, next minute they need only to say the words 'time apart', 'serious talk' or 'maybe you...' and you're never going to see them again and will have to spend the next six months having imaginary conversations in which they beg to come back, and bursting into tears at the sight of their toothbrush.

he picked me up in his arms, as if I was as light as a feather, which I am not, unless it was a very heavy feather, maybe from a giant prehistoric dinosaur-type bird...

I love Magda and Jeremy. Sometimes | stay at their house, admiring the crisp sheets and many storage jars full of different kinds of pasta, imagining that they are my parents.

Painting will help your photography," she said. "It will put you in touch with your feelings.