Quotes About Imagination

It's a wonderful thing to be able to create your own world whenever you want to.

One of the saddest things of my life was that I was deprived of the years of raising Dylan and could only dream about showing her Manhattan and the joys of Paris and Rome.

Los condenados Él sueña y yo existo en la realidad.

There I was at fifteen, on the hook, confronted by Matisse and Chagall, by Nolde, Kirchner, and Schmidt-Rotluff, by Guernica and the frantic wall-sized Jackson Pollock, by the Beckmann triptych and Louise Nevelson's dark black sculpture.

What people who don't write don't understand is that they think you make up the line consciously — but you don't. It proceeds from your unconscious. So it's the same surprise to you when it emerges as it is to the audience when the comic says it. I don't think of the joke and then say it. I say it and then realize what I've said. And I laugh at it, because I'm hearing it for the first time myself.

soprano saxophone for their delectation (years later

zdolnoÅ›ci twórcze i moc mojej wyobra?ni dalece przewy?szajÄ… mo?liwoÅ›ci zwykÅ'ego entuzjasty LSD.

but to pun on no less a maven than Blaise Pascal, "The art has its reasons, which reason knows nothing of.

I think what it boils down to, really, is that I hate reality

by the Beckmann triptych and Louise Nevelson's dark black sculpture.

Are you alone? - Of course. - I thought I heard voices. - I was praying. - I heard two voices. - Oh, well, I do both parts. --Love and Death screenplay

Amar es soñar con mares en mitad de un largo insomnio.

Siempre que uno recuerda alguno de esos sueños, le parece asombroso que inclusive dormido se tragara tantas incongruencias

I can well imagine an athiest's last words: White, white! L-L-Love! My God! - and the deathbed leap of faith. Whereas the agnostic, if he stays true to his reasonable self, if he stays beholden to dry, yeastless factuality, might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying Possibly a f-f-failing oxygenation of the b-b-brain, and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story.

A work of art works because it is true, not because it is real.

It was as unbelievable as the moon catching fire.

Fiction and nonfiction are not so easily divided. Fiction may not be real, but it's true; it goes beyond the garland of facts to get to emotional and psychological truths.

It was a huge zoo, spread over numberless acres, big enough to require a train to explore it, though it seemed to get smaler as I grew older, train included. Now it's so small it fits in my head.

If literature does one thing, it makes you more empathetic by making you live other lives and feel the pain of others. Ideologues don't feel the pain of others because they haven't imaginatively got under their skins.

How true is that necessity is the mother of invention, how very true.

So tell me, since it makes no factual difference to you and you can't prove the question either way, which story do you prefer? Which is the better story, the story with animals or the story without animals?

If we citizens do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination on the alter of crude reality, and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams.

Isn't telling about something--using words, English or Japanese--already something of an invention? Isn't just looking upon this world already something of an invention? The world isn't just the way it is. It is how we understand it, no? And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no? Doesn't that make life a story?

My alarm clock during my childhood was a pride of lions.