Quotes About Imagination

Rachel and Kirsty reached for each other's hand as their delicate wings unfolded

Let's try, said Evelyn. Let's do it for the mermicorns.

Friendship Forest!

It was Jack Frost!

It has been said that nearly all of our worries and unhappiness come from our imagination and not from reality.

The ability to read opened up a new and magic world for him, a world he had never dreamed of before. It changed him. It broadened his horizon and gave him vision; and, for a quarter of a century, reading remained the dominant passion of his life.

She stooped for a stone and dropped it down. 'Fancy being where that is now,' she said, peering into the blackness; 'fancy going round and round like a mouse in a pail, clutching at the slimy sides, with the water filling your mouth, and looking up to the little patch of sky above.' 'You had better come in,' said Benson, very quietly. 'You are developing a taste for the morbid and horrible.' (The Well)

Who cares what the fact was, when we have made a constellation of it to hang in heaven an immortal sign?

A thought is a substance, producing the thing that is imagined by the thought.

There is never any hurry on the creative plane; and there is no lack of opportunity.

When I asked my parents how the baby got inside Ma, they both laughed, and then Daddy told me they had made it with their bodies. I pictured them fully clothed, rubbing furiously against each other, like two sticks making fire.

A fiction writer weaves a fabric of lies in hopes of revealing deeper human truths.

That's often the case, of course—that creation and madness begin to dance with each other.

The "what-ifs": they'll do a number on you.

If you want people to flock to art, lure them with pancakes.

He sat on the rug and shouted correct answers to the contestants. His wild hair blocked off a corner of the screen. "You're pretty smart," I said during a commercial. "And you thought all I could do was hang wallpaper." He laughed. "You're just catching me during one of my fallow periods, that's all. One of my compost years. I'm expecting a creative leap pretty soon now.

What solitary child hasn't wished for a twin, Mr. Birdsey? Hasn't imagined that a double exists somewhere in the world? It's a hungering for human connection— another way of sheltering oneself against the storm.

A writer can do nothing for men more necessary, satisfying, than just simply to reveal to them the infinite possibility of their own souls.

I dream in my dream all the dreams of the other dreamers, And I become the other dreamers.

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, with the twirl of my tongue I encompass words and volumes of words

And your very flesh shall be a great poem

I wander all night in my vision, Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping, Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers...

Of all races and eras these States with veins full of poetical stuff most need poets