Quotes About Imagination

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends -- daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored.

When you open a book it's like going to the theater first you see the curtain then it is pulled aside and the show begins.

You know a great many things in dreams, often despite the evidence of your eyes. You just know them.

Her curiosity was too much for her. She felt almost as if she could hear the books whispering on the other side of the half-open door. They were promising her a thousand unknown stories, a thousand doors into worlds she had never seen before.

You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.

A reader doesn't really see the characters in a story; he feels them.

The books in Mo and Meggie's house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There where books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet, small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie down to breakfast with invitingly opened pages; they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fall over them.

you can not fully read a book without being alone. But through this very solitude you become intimately involved with people whom you might never have met otherwise, either because they have been dead for centuries or because they spoke languages you cannot understand. And, nonetheless, they have become your closest friends, your wisest advisors, the wizards that hypnotize you, the lovers you have always dreamed of. -Antonio munoz molinas, "the power of the pen

Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on the page tell us only as much as we'd see peering through a keyhole. Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

While all societies make their own imaginaries (institutions, laws, traditions, beliefs and behaviors), autonomous societies are those that their members are aware of this fact, and explicitly self-institute (????-?????????). In contrast, the members of heteronomous societies attribute their imaginaries to some extra-social authority (i.e. God, ancestors, historical necessity)

You see, this would be a death by the imagination. And though the imagination feeds on phantoms, it needs a premise in reality to begin with. Then it can go on from there under its own power. ("Mind Over Murder")

I had this really great amazing thing happen where I almost finished the book and I really needed to come up with an ending and I decided to go back and re-read the book and see if I could come up with an ending.

The future's a weirder place than we thought it would be when we were little kids.

Novels for me are how I find out what's going on in my own head. And so that's a really useful and indeed critical thing to do when you do as many of these other things as I do.

Yeah, I feel super sorry for you that you have to be locked in a car with a guy that looks like Chris Evans after the super soldier serum.

Nothing surpasses the beauty and elegance of a bad idea.

One of the more flexible words in the English language, art is defined as a human creative skill, doing something as a result of knowledge and practice. It is the mind's eye rendered in visual form.

If Miss Havisham had gone with that sassy taffeta number instead, hey, who knows, maybe it would've been all peaches and cream.

I hope what I do has an art to it, and as an artist you have to try new things and keep yourself entertained.

Harry Potter, he sends a message on Owl Mail while us poor old muggles have to make do with instantaneous emails and texting. Oh, if only we could be like you Harry Potter, with your four day owl delivery!

Peace is not found in the sea. It is found when I dream of eternity.

If only I had feathered wings, that could bend and curve and reach, beyond imagined dreams, unhindered by the weight of earth.

When we front a fiction, we are destined for loneliness.

As he began to drift again Jean was never sure whether he saw or did not see, a troupe of monkeys clad in blue Hussar coats piped with yellow twist, enter from a small door to swing across the great chamber and exit like nomadic wanderers into a great door emblazoned by the setting sun.