Quotes About Imagination

Literature, music, art, and the stage were thought to be only for bohemians, who were regarded as the unpractical estrays of life who could do nothing better than act, paint, play, and write stories.

The artist does not really create; he discovers.

But neither painting, literature, music, nor architecture is so impressive as life.

I don't just want to write a story. I want to pull the reader into my ink so they feel the cold of a snowy forest or the pain of a tortured soul. I want them to laugh and cry, to smile and sigh, and when they reach the end of the book and find themselves wishing it hadn't ended...then I've done my job.

W. B. Yeats has created, if not a new world, a new star. He is not a reporter of life as it is, to the extent that Shakespeare or Browning is. One is not quite certain that his kingdom is of the green earth. He is like a man who has seen the earth not directly but in a crystal.

We don't create a fantasy world to escape reality, we create it to be able to stay.

what is an imaginary friend? are there also imaginary enemies?

You keep seeing your picture on posters that you are missing but you're not. That'd be weird, right? Or say you look down at the sidewalk and earthworms are spelling your name. Or you open a peanut bag and the 'hello' is written in your writing on the inside of the shell. Would that weird ya?

What is an idea made of? Of future, past and also meanwhile.

painted three quadrants

Mabel likened Lavinia's hand to a demented spider who has fallen into an inkwell.

In the Manglemunching Forest there's a Nickle Nackle tree, Growing Nickle Nackle berries that are red as red can be.

There are so many great stories that happen in real life there's really no need to think them up at all. I always tell children I have got idea antennae flapping around waiting to grab ideas as they fly past.

Silly language was very much a part of our lives so stringing together nice sentences and being conscious of interesting words were the sorts of things I enjoyed as a child.

Ideas aren't magical; the only tricky part is holding on to one long enough to get it written down.

No, Missy. Ain't nothing wrong with being afraid—that's only human. But we need to give our fear to Massa Jesus instead of letting our imaginations run off with it.

quiet. Did she dare to imagine a future that didn't

I think Andrew Stanton is such an amazing, creative mind.

On a lazy Saturday morning when you're lying in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, there is a space where fantasy and reality become one. Are you awake, or are you dreaming? You see people and things; some are familiar; some are strange. You talk, you feel, but you move without walking; you fly without wings. Your mind and your body exist, but on separate planes. Time stands still. For me, this is the feeling I have when ideas come.

She was sitting in a garden more beautiful than even her rampaging imagination could ever have conjured up, and she was being serenaded by trees.

One hundred and fifty years ago, the respect we now have for nurses and the intense training that nurses must undergo was nothing but a seed in Florence Nightingale's imagination. If we believe that nurses are some of the most respectable and hardworking people in our community, we owe that belief to Florence Nightingale.

All through dinner Miss Beatrice Hyde-Clare imagined tossing food at Damien Matlock, Duke of Kesgrave. The projectiles varied depending on the course—fish patties with olive paste, stuffed tomatoes, veal cutlets, poached eggs, fillets of salmon, meringues with preserves—but the impulse remained steady.

When she fell asleep, she dreamed of a woman riding the moon across the sky. Her pale hair caught the light of the sun, and the long curls became iridescent rainbows that wrapped the world with love and peace. "There's someone you have to meet," the woman in the dream said. "Hurry.

Then he saw Catty. He hadn't recognized her at first. She had painted her face white for the day and drawn black caverns around her eyes. Squares over her lips made skeleton teeth. Children circled her, watching her paint a little girl's face.