Quotes About Imagination

I'm not like them, but I can pretend.

Our only hope is to stop, to look, to understand, and to get out of the traps of memory. For memory feeds imagination and imagination generates desire and fear.

E]ven today, when confident and self-affirmative lesbian identities have emerged and are available to women, images of `lesbianism' are still regularly appropriated by a male heterosexual pornographic imagination which cannot accept that this is one party to which men are not invited and at which their presence is not necessary.

imagination is a form of flagellation if a sensitive child lets it run wild ...

Art exists not inside the piece itself, but inside the mind of the viewer.

The world of children is the world that makes sense.

In the absence of facts, we tell ourselves stories.

In the absence of facts, he thinks, we tell ourselves stories.

crayon, drawing a

As an engineer, he finds the act of art beyond him. The idea that the object itself: canvas, wood and oil is not the point. And that instead, some intangible experience created from the suggestion -- from the intersection of materials, colors, and content has been created. Art exists not inside the piece itself, but inside the mind of the viewer.

Dreamers will always dream.

Sitting in the back of a cab, Scott pictures the boy eating cereal in front of the tv late at night - unable to sleep - watching a dog drawn from letters d-o-g talk to a cat drawn from the letters c-a-t. If only real life were that simple, where everyone we met and every place we went was fashioned from the pure essence of its identity. Where you looked at a man and saw the letters f-r-i-e-n-d, and looked at a woman and saw the word w-i-f-e.

Censorship is never over for those who have experienced it. It is a brand on the imagination that affects the individual who has suffered it, forever.

Back then, my idol was Bugs Bunny, because I saw a cartoon of him playing ball — you know, the one where he plays every position himself with nobody else on the field but him? Now that I think of it, Bugs is still my idol. You have to love a ballplayer like that.

But when I looked into my aunt's eyes, I saw oceans and deserts. I saw a world not yet created, and worlds that had died long before I was born.

Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it's a way of making contact with someone else's imagination after a day that's all too real.

And then the dreams break into a million tiny pieces. The dream dies. Which leaves you with a choice: you can settle for reality, or you can go off, like a fool, and dream another dream.

So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?

The sky is dense with light, so many stars crowded against one another, it looks like the night is too small for them. How will they get out? I imagine they will hold hands to become morning.

Because there is a need to hear one story and to tell another.

She would take control of her dreaming and make it work for her, like a film director, creating a movie in which she was both the scriptwriter and the leading actor.

You can fix anything but a blank page.

I do not feel obliged in my reading. I read to be entertained and to relax, and to go into another world, not because it's good for me.

Good fiction creates its own reality.