Quotes About Imagination

Tam bir yaln?zl?k konumunda, insan kendini olumlu eylemle dile getiremediÄŸi, çektiÄŸi ac?lara doÄŸru bir tav?rla -onurlu bir tav?rla- katlanmaktan baÅŸka yapacak hiçbir ÅŸeyi olmad??? zaman, sevdiÄŸi insana iliÅŸkin içinde ta??d??? imgeye sevgiyle yoÄŸunlaÅŸarak doyuma ulaÅŸabiliyordu.

When given free rein, his imagination played with past events, often not important ones, but minor happenings and trifling things. His nostalgic memory glorified them and they assumed a strange character.

ilusión del indulto»; no perdían la esperanza de que serían liberados e imaginaban que aquello iba a terminar bien.

My interest does not lie in raising parrots that just rehash "their master's voice," but rather in passing the torch to "independent and inventive, innovative and creative spirits.

Occasionally I looked at the sky, where the stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind a dark bank of clouds. But my mind clung to my wife's image, imagining it with an uncanny acuteness. I heard her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.

Human beings forget they created the images in order to orientate themselves in the world. Since they are no longer able to decode them, their lives become a function of their own images: Imagination has turned into hallucination. This

Once you put a romantic image in someone's head, it's hard to get it out.

The human species' ability to believe whatever it wanted was truly incredible.

The story ends with a crack the actor Hans Conreid made on seeing my two hundred black and white pots. Said Hans, You're one actor no one will ever be able to say he hasn't got a pot to... End quote.

Trees that are only trees by daylight are many and various other things at night. They are lurking, impossible monsters of the animal world or crouching human ruffians, of ferocious aspect and intent, depending upon their shape, size, color, distance from the beholder, and general state of well-being or decay. One's own well-being has some bearing on the matter. Strong nerves are needed to walk among them in the darkness.

often she had seemed to herself to be moving among those vanished figures of old books and pictures, an invisible ghost among the living, better acquainted with them than with her own friends. she very nearly lost consciousness that she was a separate being, with a future of her own.

At last she shut the book sharply, lay back, and drew a deep breath, expressive of the wonder which always marks the transition from the imaginary world to the real world.

He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which, ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink.

When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing.

Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so lightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners.

I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world of one's own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful.

Let us again pretend that life is a solid substance, shaped like a globe, which we turn about in our fingers. Let us pretend that we can make out a plain and logical story, so that when one matter is despatched—love for instance—we go on, in an orderly manner, to the next.

Therefore I would ask you to write all kinds of books, hesitating at no subject however trivial or however vast. By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream.

I was always going to the bookcase for another sip of the divine specific.

He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

It was a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.

The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with a tinder.

For masterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice.

Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun might set and rise in it and we might take the blue of midday and the black of midnight and be cast off and escape from here and now.