Quotes About Imagination

What garlic is to salad, insanity is to art.

Science was false by being unpoetical. It assumed to explain a reptile or mollusc, and isolated it, — which is hunting for life in graveyards. Reptile or mollusc or man or angel only exists in system, in relation... Science does not know its debt to imagination.

in a winter fireplace burns the fantasy of spring — wildflowers flaming across a lush wooded landscape

Be cautious what tales you tell yourself — you're writing your own autobiography.

I'd like to meet the man who invented sex and see what he's working on now.

During sex I fantasize that I'm someone else.

A little girl had been looking at some pictures of angels and she turned to her mamma and asked: "Mamma, why are there no men in heaven?" "But there are men in heaven," replied her mother. "Then why is it," asked the child, "that we never see any pictures of angels with whiskers or mustache?" "True," was the reply," but there are men in heaven, only they get in by a close shave.

Sometimes I do a little mental skipping, just to shake things up in my mind.

The BFG changed into his famous top gear and all at once he began to fly forward as though there were springs in his legs and rockets in his toes. He went skimming over the earth like some magical hop-skip-and-jumper with his feet hardly ever touching the ground.

If the good Lord had wanted people to stay on the ground, he would have given us roots.

I've never been skydiving, but I have zoomed in on Google Earth really fast.

The only cure for writer's block is insomnia.

I like to party, and by party I mean a slumber party for one with plenty of books to read.

Snowmen fall from heaven — unassembled.

Robert Wilmott, ponderously firm and earnest, lacked imagination. To the passengers aboard the Morro Castle, however, he was a public-relations press release come true, a dream of what a liner captain should be. He epitomized the advertised enchanted world of a sea cruise, in which there is no death or danger, where the seams between reality and magic are always caulked.

It is the spirit of the age to believe that any fact, no matter how suspect, is superior to any imaginative exercise, no matter how true.

That is sad until one recalls how many bad books the world may yet be spared because of the busyness of writers.

There is hardly an American male of my generation who has not at one time or another tried to master the victory cry of the great ape as it issued from the androgynous chest of Johnny Weissmuller, to the accompaniment of thousands of arms and legs snapping during attempts to swing from tree to tree in the backyards of the Republic.

How marvelous books are, crossing worlds and centuries, defeating ignorance and, finally, cruel time itself.

Write what you know will always be excellent advice for those who ought not to write at all. Write what you think, what you imagine, what you suspect!

Wie tief im Menschen leben jede jener Fabeln: wurzelt, auf welche die großen alten Werke gebaut sind.

Dasjenige aber nur allein ist fruchtbar, was der Einbildungskraft freies Spiel läßt. Je mehr wir sehen, desto mehr müssen wir hinzu denken können.

Nicht die Kinder bloß, speist man mit Märchen ab.

I still weave dreams, finding inspiration wherever I can and looking for romance in the real, not the digital, world