Quotes About Imagination

The only problem is that it's difficult to imagine something entirely new. We use the words and definitions of the past to shape our ideas. Something that is genuinely the next evolutionary step is unlikely to resemble anything we can imagine. Even the best books on the subject are limited." She'd

Stuffed creatures, come to life and attack werewolves.

She occasionally daydreamed about being the sort of character in a story who could faint and leave everyone else to sort things out. But that wasn't going to happen.

This sense of possibility might not last, of course Nothing ever did. But she wasn't going to spoil it by looking too far ahead. They were safe in the Library, and the Library would endure.

She'd always wondered, or even daydreamed, what it was like to actually work with great detectives, rather than just read about them. It was more annoying than she'd expected.)

She just wanted—had always wanted—a good book to read.

Vogliamo i libri. Amiamo i libri. Viviamo con i libri

She'd always wondered, or even daydreamed, what it was like to actually work with great detectives, rather than just read about them. It was more annoying than she expected.

Aubrey - "Apparently she wears a black leather catsuit and a golden mask." Irene - "Any details on the mask?" Aubrey - "I think people are usually too busy looking at the black leather catsuit.

She was in the Library. Not just any library, but the Library.

What she needed was a miracle. What she got was a dragon.

All her life she had been taught that the Language allowed its users to shape reality.

Living outside the Library was never safe. Flying sleighs could come out of nowhere and hit you, however careful you were.

All libraries are a gateway into other worlds, including the past—and the future.

We want books. We love books. We live with books.

She was a Librarian, and the deepest, most fundamental part of her life involved a love of books. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to shut the rest of the world out and have nothing to worry about except the next page of whatever she was reading.

The faint odour of rotting cheese suggested that sandwiches had been lost in the trackless wastes of paper and never found again.

He imagined the fervid hum of the city above them, the constant buzz and surge of business and activity, and Irene drifting through it like a single butterfly with a pack of wolves on her tail. The image lacked poetic balance, and he frowned. 'What chases butterflies?' he asked. Evariste glanced at him sidelong. 'What the hell does that have to do with anything?' he asked. Kai looked back in disdain. 'Poetic metaphor,' he said.

She occasionally daydreamed about being the sort of character in a story who could faint and leave everyone else to sort things out.

There's a Lego in my bum which fits with the Lego in my chair and when I sit down to write, I hear the satisfying snap of the two pieces fitting together.

Art is about painting. All the rest is just a sideshow

People say it's not what happens in your life that matters, it's what you think happened. But this qualification, obviously, did not go far enough. It was quite possible that the central event of your life could be something that didn't happen, or something you thought didn't happen. Otherwise there'd be no need for fiction, there'd only be memoirs and histories...

but dreams on paper are never as good as the real thing.

the task is not so much to see what no one yet has seen but to think what nobody yet has thought about that which everybody sees.