Quotes About Imagination

I want you to invent it. I want you to have that skill. To create your own reality. Your own set of laws. I want to try and teach you that.

On a night without moon or stars you can't see a thing, but you can imagine anything.

And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

Beginning with Santa in infancy, and ending with the Tooth Fairy as the child acquires adult teeth. Or, plainly put, beginning with all the possibility of childhood, and ending with an absolute trust in the national currency.

This would be...a book that would be a trapdoor down into some place dark. A place only you could go, alone, when you opened the cover. Because only books have that power.

I could imagine myself becoming one of Marla's stories.

A child who is disillusioned abruptly, by his peers or siblings, being ridiculed for his faith and imagination, may choose never to believe in anything- tangible or intangible- again. To never trust or wonder.

Now this is the first rule of fight club: There is nothing a blue collar Nobody in Oregon with a public school education can imagine that a million-billion people haven't already done...

At some point, Wax mentioned how appalling it seemed that those brilliant minds who could invent miracle medicines and nuclear fission and dazzling computer special effects, they had such a complete lack of imagination when it came to spending their money: granite countertops and luxury cars. Talking about that stuff, Wax driving, the madder he got, you could watch the speedo creep up past eighty, ninety, a hundred.

Give me violent revenge fantasies as a copying mechanism. Flash. Just give me my first oportunity. Flash.

She could see it so clear. She could picture every room, inside every house. And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

I cross my fingers that if a demon dunks me in a vat of boiling lava I'll get thrown together naked with River Phoenix, and that he'll say I'm cute and try to kiss me.

With the world always filling you, no one has to worry about what's in your mind. With everyone's imagination atrophied, no one will ever be a threat to the world.

In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.

That's the worst aspect of being a writer: managing plausibility.

Still, with a plan, you only get the best you can imagine. I'd always hoped for something better than that.

This is better than real life.

The tiny space, the toilet, two hundred strangers just a few inches away, it's so exciting, the lack of room to maneuver, it helps if you're double-jointed. Use your imagination. Some creativity and a few simple stretching exercises and you can be knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door. You'll be amazed how time flies.

To Mr. Jones, she said, imagine you're looking up at a blue sky, and imagine a tiny airplane skywriting the letter Z. Then let the wind erase the letter. Then imagine the plane writing the letter Y. Let the wind erase it. Then the letter X. Erase it. Then the letter W. Let the wind erase it.

Adam said the other blessing you have to give up in the outside world is darkness. You can close your eyes, and sit in a cupboard, but that's not the same thing. The darkness at night in the church district colony is complete. The stars are thick above us in this kind of darkness. You can see how the moon is rough with mountain ranges and etched with rivers and smoothed with oceans. On a night without the moon or stars you can't see a thing, but you can imagine anything.

The se­cret is to not let your imag­ina­tion get car­ried away.

Slang is the writer's palette of colors.

It's nothing perfect or complete, but this is what I've made of my life. Right or wrong, it follows no great master plan. All you can do is hope for a pattern to emerge, and sometimes it never does. Still, with a plan, you only get the best you can imagine. I'd always hoped for something better than that.

Because the only frontier left is the world of intangibles, ideas, stories, music, art. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it.