Quotes About Imagination

I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever.

Não conhecia o prazer de ler, de explorar portas que se nos abrem na alma, de nos abandonarmos à imaginação, à beleza e ao mistério da ficção e da linguagem.

Every book, every volume you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived it and dreamed with it.

Hasta entonces para mí las lecturas eran una obligación, una especie de multa a pagar a maestros y tutores sin saber muy bien para qué. No conocía el placer de leer, de explorar puertas que se te abren en el alma, de abandonarse a la imaginación, a la belleza y al misterio de la ficción y del lenguaje.

All interpretation or observation of reality is necessarily fiction.

A story has no beginning and no end, only points of entry.

Few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of words we think have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory

Books are mirrors - you only see in them what you already have inside you

Ben invented mathematical theories that even he didn't manage to remember and wrote such bizarre tales of adventure that he ended up destroying them a week after they were finished, embarrassed at the thought that he had penned them.

I imagined Julián Caraxat my age, holding that image in his hands, perhaps in the shade of the same tree that now sheltered me. I could almost see him smiling confidently, contemplating a future as wide and luminous as that avenue, and for a moment I thought there were no more ghosts there than that of absence and loss that the light that smiled on me was borrowed light, real only as long as I could hold it in my eyes, second by second.

Umjetnici žive u budu?nost ili u prošlosti; nikad u sadašnjosti.

few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of words we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory to which, sooner or later—no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how much we learn or forget—we will return.

A story is a letter the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.

a man who invented his life story day after day.

I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day. As

Every book, every volume that you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it.

My only company was the incessant clacking of the typewriter echoing in the darkened hall and the large clock on the wall exhausting the minutes left until dawn.

This, and the hope every maker of tales carries within: that readers will open their hearts to these little creatures made of ink and paper, and give them a part of themselves so they can be immortal, even if only for a few minutes.

Page and page I let the spell of the story and its world take me over, until the breath of dawn touched my window and my tired eyes slid over the last page. I lay in the bluish half-light with the book on my chest and listened to the murmur of the sleeping city. My eyes began to close, but I resisted. I did not want to lose the story's spell or bid farewell to its characters yet.

?itava se Barcelona prostirala meni pod nogama i želio sam vjerovati da ?e mi kad otvorim te svoje nove prozore njezine ulice u sumrak šaputati na uho pri?e i tajne kako bih ih uhvatio na papir i ispri?ao onima koji ih žele slušati.

Inspiration comes when you stick your elbows on the table and your bottom on the chair and start sweating. Choose a theme, an idea, and squeeze your brain until it hurts. That's called inspiration.

Mil veces he querido regresar y perderme en un recuerdo del que apenas puedo rescatar una imagen robada al calor de las llamas.

Mi balenò in mente il pensiero che dietro ogni copertina si celasse un universo da esplorare e che, fuori di lì, la gente sprecasse il tempo ascoltando partite di calcio e sceneggiati alla radio, paga della propria mediocrità.

Az embert semmi nem jellemzi olyan jól, mint az a könyv, amely legelÅ'ször rabul ejti a lelkét.