Quotes About Imagination

...she made her home in between the pages of books.

Les rêves aussi sont contagieux

No night is long enough for us to dream twice.

One day, I will be a poet. Water will depend on my visions.

I used to invent love when necessary. When I walked alone on the riverbank. Or whenever the level of salt would rise in my body, I would invent the river.

For me it is essential, essential for the poet to have a new toast, new songs.

One day I'll become what I want One day I will become a thought" Excerpt From Mural

When the image is identical to reality, the imagination is compelled to be neutral. Therefore let the image of the object lie to the object so we can see what lies beyond the object, and in the light of that vision see what saves us from nothingness.

the poem is a dice throw on a patch of darkness that may or may not glow

Letters are restless, hungry for an image, and the image is thirsty for a meaning.

My imagination will give out before I finish the journey, I don't have the energy to make my dream real.

I guess if everyone was blind, and you tried to describe vision to them, it would sound crazy and made up.

You will certainly not doubt the necessity of studying astronomy and physics, if you are desirous of comprehending the relation between the world and Providence as it is in reality, and not according to imagination.

One's own thought is one's world. What a person thinks is what he becomes.

You go through at least the first two years of Star Trek and you find some amazing stuff. Everything that was going on Gene put into the series. He just put strange costumes on the actors and painted them funny colours and left the same situation in.

There's nobody out there. It's all in here.

He taught me that language was rubbery, plastic. It wasn't, as I thought, something you just use, but something you can play with. Words were made up of little bits that could be shuffled, turned back to front, remixed. They could be tucked and folded into other words to produce unexpected things. It was like cookery, like alchemy. Language hid more than it revealed.

This line of reasoning could have frightened him, but it did not. He gained a certain strength from it. Because, after all, what can be imagined can be achieved. At the head of the stairs, he paused to straighten a mask that had been knocked askew.

Imagination is highly suspect. Reality is what is beautiful. But we are blind to it because it is familiar.

I can't write that dreadful hobbity stuff. I just simply... can't.

I hate Tolkien. I mean. Bloody pretentious escapist nonsense, isn't it?

A mirror has no heart but plenty of ideas.

Putting pen to paper lights more fire than matches ever will

When you cease to dream you cease to live.