Quotes About Imagination

Perhaps the conspiracy existed only because I had invented it. Perhaps I should forget about it now.

He was a beautiful man, Tatrini thought, an enigmatic stranger. For a brief moment, she imagined how it might be if Almorante was allowed to be emperor. It was as if the future breathed on her neck. In another world, they would not be marching on Old Caradore now. In that world, Palindrake would be at Almorante's side. But we are not in that world, Tatrini told herself. We are in this one and I have made it to my liking.

My easy conviction that everything that had happened had only been the product of my imagination was shattered now.

Leonid saw what he wanted to see, a world shining with the light of Madragore.

She remembered the flavor of the dreams, the wet stark fear of them, but the images eluded her. For that, she was grateful.

I was married off without realizing what that entailed, but found myself in a a fairy tale. This land is beautiful, as if I dreamed it up in my head.

He couldn't imagine anyone less attractive than Leeth; her ugliness was on the inside, something damp and cold and dark.

Memories were perhaps sweeter than reality.

Behind my closed eyelids, the world was red and black, shot with flames and blood.

He felt as if he was on the brink of a vast understanding-he could almost feel its intense shine within his mind, and yet the meaning evaded him. The scintillant ideas burst like shimmering bubbles of glass even as his imagination encountered them.

In her dreams Barbara was strong and powerful. She did not see herself as a slim, limpid beauty, but a statuesque valkyrie, who stalked a wild landscape, making things happen and having Experiences. Barbara's imagination was fecund. She did not read most of her fantasies to the other members of her writing group.

He opened his eyes, and the sight of the crystal city, in all its splendour, came at his sensitive pupils like a hail of spears.

Did he imagine the rustle of garments, the brief touch of fingers on his brow? He opened his eyes, expection violation, but there was no one there.

As the stage lamps were turned up, these shapes were revealed to be pieces of scenery, mere suggestions of forms. To me, it became rocky land, devoid of moisture.

I will not ask you to trust me. All I ask is that you dare to dream.

Listen, then, for I am a soulscaper and have the gift of the story tongue.

By day, Casmeer worried that he was becoming too involved in his work. He realised the boundary between fantasy and reality was growing blurred. Occasionally, but with increasing regularity, he thought about giving up on his creation. And yet, it had given his empty life some meaning. How could he live without it now?

My city could not help but be conducive to creative thought. Who knows what new myths might spring from the juxtaposition of so many fabulous designs?

When he turned around to look, he once again saw white faces peering in stillness from high, insanely angled windows, and dimunitive bodies climbing up and down the almost vertical streets.

The next journey, the next story, he thought.

You are a product of my mind, my ego. I know I would like to be different, but who doesn't?

He felt ashamed of what he had imagined: the plundering of Finnigin's body, the transformation of Finnigin's flesh. He was unsure what had prompted him to do it.

Sofia visualised shining strings emanating from each of her fingers and connected with the souls of her puppets. All she had to do to get them to perform was to lift a finger and tweak a string.

For a person who walks in people's dreams, who has conversed with gods and ghosts, you are an insufferable sceptic, Rayojini.