Quotes About Imagination

Let's see, he had told me one night at our hotel's bar, I've been beaten to death with brass knuckles by Robert Mitchum, knifed in the back by Ernest Borgnine, shot in the head by Frank Sinatra, strangled by James Coburn,

while the northerners offered a utopia that could be found nowhere, the southerners had created a Fantasia that could be experienced everywhere

I think of the novelist Haruki Murakami, who compares writing a novel to digging a hole through deep rock to reach a source of water. To access mystery and intuition requires hard work and is a gamble, for there is no guarantee that we will find that source of water.

And authenticity's important. Not that authenticity beats imagination. The story still comes first. The universality of the story has to be there. But it doesn't hurt to get the details right.

Writing was entering into fog, feeling my way for a route from this world to the unearthly world of words, a route easier to find on some days than others.

I think of the novelist Haruki Murakami, who compares writing a novel to digging a hole through deep rock to reach a source of water.

We are living in a culture in which metaphor is discarded for these so-called facts. We train minds to detect these facts much as one breaks in a baseball glove. Meanwhile, the imagination is neglected and is left unguarded and untrained. W

Art seems to be the only place we can liberate our many selves.

The world is a story we tell ourselves about the world.

Dreams take you beyond what you think you can do in life.

The thing about inspiration is that it takes your mind off everything else.

Let the smoky Käll sustain himself on Mars, and Yuko lay rue on Beethoven's grave. Let the lord of the manor of Rochdale clap his coffin into a canoe and disport himself on the waters. Let Zsa-Zsa sleep on a pillow of haddock in Maria's cello case. Let Mrs Wessen live to see her thousandth moon. Let Ysobel unknit her forehead. Let not poor Virginie weep. Let all and no things come to pass, for how will I pass these days?

In a clear brook With joyful haste The whimsical trout Shot past me like an arrow I play the line of the song, I play the leaps and plunges of the right hand of the piano, I am the trout, the angler, the brook, the observer.

My eyes close. I am here and not here. A waking nap? A flight to the end of the galaxy and perhaps a couple of billion light-years beyond?

Books are for only those who can live without television.

I am a writer. Books are my home and words are my friends.

No one can tell more about you if you close your eyes.

Treat your thoughts as if they were guests and wishes as if they were children.

It's the same with visual arts, you have some really cool, wonderful striking images that make you think and then again you have wonderful striking images that just take you away from the existing world for a second. And I like the latter a bit more.

So imagine: Dungeons and Dragons [is] a table filled with artists, whether they're painters, whether they're actors, whether they're poets … - whatever they are, they are able to live in this world of imagination.

What is needed is the imagination of the poet and the reasoning power of the mathematician. The thief of "The Purloined Letter" successfully hides the letter from the police because he is both a poet and a mathematician. Dupin is able to find it because he too meets both conditions.

your allegiance belongs to the God of your imagination or whether it belongs to the God of the Bible.

Those whom God has chosen will accept God the way he is, and worship him for his sovereignty and righteousness. Others will prefer a God of their own imagination, and for this they will be condemned.

Sometimes you read a passage by a great writer, and you know what he says and how he says it will always be, for you, the only possible way it could be. Less often a painter will describe an event in a way that fits into your interpretation of that event so perfectly that it becomes the event itself.