Quotes About Imagination

Quando menino, no mosteiro, as histórias tinham sido a riqueza de Lazlo. Ele era mais rico agora. Agora ele tinha livros.

It sounded just as he'd always imagined it would: like calligraphy, if calligraphy were written in honey.

Who sneers? wondered Eliza, fadingly. She'd thought it was something only book characters did.

Cada mente es un propio mundo. La mayoría ocupa un vasto terreno medio ordinario, mientras que otras se distinguen más: son más agradables, incluso hermosas, o a veces son resbaladizas y se sienten inexplicablemente erroneas.

He visto otros universos. He estado en ellos. Y los he destruido.

It's all a quilt of fairy tales with a patch here and there of truth.

Ma è il sogno a scegliere il sognatore, non il contrario

It was impossible, of course. But when did that ever stop a dreamer from dreaming.

Solo estaba pensando -dijo Sparrow- que nuestra vida, cuando estamos despiertos es como la ciudadela. Quiero decir, que está encerrada. Transcurre en el interior, sin cielo. Pero soñar es como el jardín. Al soñar se puede salir de la prisión y percibir el cielo que hay alrededor. En un sueño puedes estar en cualquier sitio. Puedes ser libre. Tú también mereces eso, Sarai

Hoppet är den verkliga magin (s. 363).

How does it happen, that the events of a day, or a night - or a life - are translated into story? There is a gap in between, where awe has carved a space that words have yet to fill.

Posso não ter meus próprios sonhos – disse ela, como se não importasse muito –, mas tenho os sonhos de todo o mundo.

Because hope comes from in you, and wishes are just magic »

Small! I'm mot going to be small anymore. I'm going to be a dragon, with wings like lacquer fans and jets of fire breath for roasting up goose suppers midair!" Pippin spread out her arms, imagining them wings. Why not? she asked herself.

There was magic in wanting to see a thing that has been marvelously described.

But a quill on paper was different from a stick on the bottom of a stream or a fingertip on my forearm. Its scratch was like the dry sparking of a flint and a page with fresh marks on it like a blazing porcupine. A tale written down must be like that , I thought. It must be like the block of wood of the body sprouting tiny tongues of fire and who knows where the next one will rise and burn.

But could she see things clear like you can? Could she see straight through you? See through your hair and skin to your blood and bones? Did she ever give your cheek a lick to see how you tasted and tell what you would become? Did she have a scar on her chest like a door? Did she ever leave you for long periods? Did a squirrel ever come and sit on her shoulder and whisper in her ear?

I think that in general -- well, at least it's true for me -- you tend to put something of yourself into the story as a whole. Not necessarily in any character, you understand. But you've got your own way of looking at the world, and that naturally will affect how you craft a story.

Prose is an art form, movies and acting in general are art forms, so is music, painting, graphics, sculpture, and so on. Some might even consider classic games like chess to be an art form. Video games use elements of all of these to create something new. Why wouldn't video games be an art form?

But all stories are made up," I offered. "All telling is retelling, and therefore it is fiction. Everybody knows that.

Sex has to do with imagination, so the sky is the limit. If you're not doing bodily harm, why shouldn't you do what turns you on?

He, who can create, abhors destruction.

Utopias are often just premature truths.

Dream not ... of having tasted all the grandeur and wildness of fancy till you have gone mad!