Quotes About Imagination

If you, like me, are essentially a city person, then the chances are that when you imagine a wood you picture a simple thing: matching green trees in even rows, a soft carpet of dead leaves or pine needles, orderly as a child's drawing. Possibly those earnestly efficient man-made woods are in fact like that; I wouldn't know.

Lexie Madison developed out of nothing like a Polaroid, she curled off the page and hung in the air like incense smoke, a girl with my face and a life from a half-forgotten dream.

That girl in the photo isn't one solid person, feet set solidly in one irrevocable life; that girl is an illusive firework-burst made of light reflecting off a million different possibilities.

What-if-maybe crap is for weak people. It belongs to the ones who don't have the strength to make actual situations go their way, so they have to hide away in daydreams where they can play at controlling what comes next. And that makes them even weaker.

If a guy's whole head is in reality, then reality is the only route we can take to get to him. If he's letting his mind prance off down dozens of twisty hypothetical fairy tales, every one of those is a crack we can use to prize him open.

I hope in that half hour she lived all her million lives.

The idea bent my brain.

At first I barely recognized it as a person; stripped of substance by the bright sunfall through the leaves, flutter of white T-shirt, confusing gold swirl of hair, white brushstroke face and dense dark smudges of eyes, it had something illusory about it, as if my mind had conjured it from patches of light and shadow and at any moment it might break up and be gone.

Where I'm seeing a dead end, he's seeing a brilliant new twist to his amazing story. I wish I could take my holidays inside Steve's head.

every flash of moonlight off a leaf looked like bared white teeth, the tree over the car looked dense with shadow-things hanging ready to drop. Every sound had me leaping around, but there was never anything to see.

I could no longer picture Rosalind in my mind's eye; the tender vision of the girl in white had been blown to pieces as if by a nuclear bomb. This was something unimaginable, something hollow as the yellowed husks that insects leave behind in dry grass, blowing with cold alien winds and a fine corrosive dust that shredded everything it touched.

I loved Rosie's mind. If I could have got inside there, I would happily have spent the rest of my life wandering around, just looking.

Big Rock Candy Mountain,

None of them say anything. They keep their eyes closed. They lie still and feel the world change shape around them and inside them, feel the boundaries set solid; feel the wild left outside, to prowl perimeters till it thins into something imagined, something forgotten.

In traditional science fiction, according to Robert Heinlein, there are three lines of thought that drive writers: "What if—" [What if we built a colony on Mars?] "If only—" [If only we could fix past mistakes by travelling through time.] And "If this goes on—

Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you… the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." ?— ?Roald Dahl

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely

As a child, she'd always had what she imagined were fascinating thoughts, but didn't ever say them. Once, as a little girl, at recess, she thought that if she ran very fast at a pole and then caught it and swung quickly around, part of her would keep going, and she would become two girls.

The unindividualized, shifting mass of everyone else would be a screen, distributed throughout the city, onto which he'd project the movie of his uninterrupted imagination. Because he'd appear to, and be able to pretend he was, but never actually be a part of the mass, maybe he'd gradually begin to feel a kind of needless intimacy, not unlike being in the same room as a significant other and feeling affection without touching or speaking.

having 'weakly disturbing' images of waffles with pasta on top

Our reality is the thoughts and dramas we see in our mental movies. We

I liked the idea of there being an alternative current that hums and crackles just at the edge of our visible world. Now I realize it is a metaphor for the sometimes confused and ill-at-ease way we feel in our lives , but as a child I thought of it more realistically: if you enter that forest, you'll go somewhere else. Somewhere exciting!

Just because it's in a book doesn't mean it isn't real.' - Great Aunt Celia

Just because it's in a book doesn't mean it isn't real.' Great Aunt Celia, The Spider Goddess.