Quotes About Imagination

Even dreams cannot live up here.

When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly," he announced. "When I woke, I couldn't … or so the maester said. But what if he lied?

I am walking, he thought, exulting. Part of him knew that it was only a dream, but even the dream of walking was better than the truth of his bedchamber, walls and ceiling and door.

Cats never weep, she told herself, no more than wolves. It's just a stupid dream.

I know a song about him. But I thought he lived a hundred years ago. We all did. Once I was as young as you.

He made plans to keep himself sane, built castles of hope in the dark.

Ng??i ??c sách s?ng m?t nghìn cu?c s?ng tr??c khi anh ta ch?t, còn ng??i không ??c s?ng ch? m?t cu?c ??i

Tudo o que desejava era que as coisas fossem agradáveis e bonitas, como eram nas canções.

A reader lives a thousand lives.

Like all tales, it takes on the attributes that make it most appealing to those who tell it.

I accept what I am, but I did not choose it. I experience human life in the only way I can, vicariously. I am a voracious consumer of books, tapes, holoplays, fictions and drama and histories of all sorts. I have experimented with dreamdust.

el maestre amaba los libros tanto como Samwell Tarly. Comprendía cómo se podía sumergir uno en ellos, como si cada página fuera un agujero abierto que daba a otro mundo.

Bran was relieved . . . but disappointed too. So long as there was magic, anything could happen. Ghosts could walk, trees could talk, and broken boys could grow up to be knights. "But there isn't," he said aloud in the darkness of his bed. "There's no magic, and the stories are just stories." And he would never walk, nor fly, nor be a knight.

Might have punctured a lung, if he had a lung. Most trees don't, as a rule.

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one... tanveersalt.com

Every child knows its mother, Dany thought. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves.

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies" -

Common boys fight with wooden swords too, only theirs are sticks and broken branches.

Bad dreams never come true. The both of them had been so young, that had sounded almost wise.

Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond.

All fiction has to have a certain amount of truth in it to be powerful.

Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.

It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream.

Bir okur, ölmeden önce binlerce hayat ya?ar. Hiç okumayan birisi ise yaln?zca bir tane.