Quotes About Imagination

And that same day, too, gazing far down from his boat's side into that same golden sea, Starbuck lowly murmured:— Loveliness unfathomable, as ever lover saw in his young bride's eyes!— Tell me not of thy teeth-tiered sharks, and thy kidnapping cannibal ways. Let faith oust fact; let fancy oust memory; I look deep down and do believe.

Tanr? yard?mc?n olsun ihtiyar adam, düÅŸüncelerinle içinde bir mahluk yaratm??s?n. Derin derin düÅŸünerek bir Prometheus'a dönüÅŸenin yüreÄŸini sonsuza dek bir akbaba yer ve o akbaba da bizzat yaratt??? mahluktur.

Loveliness unfathomable, as ever lover saw in his young bride's eye!--Tell me not of thy teeth-tiered sharks, and thy kidnapping cannibal ways. Let faith oust fact; let fancy oust memory; I look deep down and do believe.

Como la gaviota sin tierra que, al atardecer, pliega las alas y se mece hasta dormirse entre el oleaje, al caer la noche el hombre de Nantucket, lejos de la tierra, recoge las velas y se echa a dormir, mientras bajo su almohada corren morsas y ballenas.

By reason of these things, then, the whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.

Would that all excellent books were foundlings, without father or mother, that so it might be, we could glorify them, without including their ostensible authors.

Quién puede trazar la línea donde termina el violeta y donde empieza el naranja en el arcoíris?

The imagination is always more horrible than the truth.

Anyone in pursuit of art is responding to a desire to make visible that which is not, to offer the unknown self to others.

But anyhow, when you take up your pen you do something devilish pleasing: there is a prospect before you. You are going to develop a germ: I don't know what it is, and I promise you I won't call it creation—but possibly a god is creating through you, and at least you are making believe at creation. Anyhow, it is a sense of mastery and of origin, and you know that when you have done, something will be added to the world, and little destroyed.

Some of these things are true and some of them lies. But they are all good stories.

Suppose within each book there is another book, and within every letter on every page another volume constantly unfolding; but these volumes take no space on the desk. Suppose knowledge could be reduced to a quintessence, held within a picture, a sign, held within a place which is no place. Suppose the human skull were to become capacious, spaces opening inside it, humming chambers like beehives.

all good stories must have religion, royalty, sex, and mystery. She figured she'd have a good two hours to read her Harlequin, said my grandmother. Well, little Suzy walked up to her desk one minute later, said she was finished, and handed her the paper. 'That's impossible,' said the teacher, who looked down and read the story: 'My god, said the Princess, I'm pregnant, whodunit?

The creation of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part, crated far out of the reach of observation.

the reader is hurried out of himself by the force of the poet's imagination, and turns in one place to a hearer, in another to a spectator.

There was a world ... or was it all a dream?

The creations of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part, created far out of the reach of observation.

The struggle itself [...] is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

for a dream, too, is from Zeus

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story

It occurred to me some years ago, that the picture of Richard the Third, as drawn by historians, was a character formed by prejudice and invention. I did not take Shakespeare's tragedy for a genuine representation, but I did take the story of that reign for a tragedy of imagination.

La atmósfera es siempre el elemento más importante, por cuanto el criterio final de autenticidad de un texto no reside en su argumento, sino en la creación de un estado de ánimo determinado.

Tis the land of Fancy, and is of that pleasant kind that, when you tire of it,—whisk!—you clap the leaves of this book together and 'tis gone, and you are ready for every-day life, with no harm done.

For ages past the Genius of Literature and the Genius of Art have walked together hand in hand. For the Goddess of letters is blind, and only she of Art can lend her sight.