Quotes About Imagination

There is something I have learned since being paralyzed, and that is that in the absence of sensory information, the imagination always tends to the grotesque.

Parfois, le cœur se serre à la pensée des choses qui auraient pu être et qui n'ont pas été.

Farther up, in the recess formed by the palace wing, was a clock. And behind that clock, the cell of the Prisoner of Zenda. No stroller in the Carrousel gardens ventured down that alley. We spent entire afternoons playing amid the broken birdbaths and statues, the stones and dead leaves. The hands of the clock never moved. They forever struck five-thirty. Those immobile hands enveloped us in a deep, soothing silence. We only had to stay in the alley and nothing would ever change.

you can make it up completely. A new life. They're not going to go and check. As you tell of this imaginary life, great breaths of fresh air rush across a closed room in which you have been unable to breathe for a long time. A window abruptly opens, the shutters bang in the breeze. You have, once again, a future before you.

Cette sensation d'étrangeté est la même que celle qui vous prend lorsque vous marchez en rêve dans un quartier inconnu. Au réveil, vous réalisez peu à peu que les rues de ce quartier étaient décalquées sur celles qui vous sont familières le jour.

Je me rends compte aujourd'hui qu'il m'a fallu écrire deux cents pages pour capter, inconsciemment, un vague reflet de la réalité.

We live in a profoundly religious country, and we are a prosperous people. But we are also a broken people—a people who have pursued the God of our own imaginations, believing we can re-create His character to suit our own practical problems. The result? We are the most religious nation in the world, but, like the Laodiceans, many are lukewarm.

Stories are the wildest things of all. Stories chase and bite and hunt.

Stories don't always have happy endings." This stopped him. Because they didn't, did they? That's one thing the monster had definitely taught him. Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.

A book… it's a world all on its own too. A world made of words, where you live for a while.

But what is a dream, Conor O'Malley? the monster said, bending down so it's face was close to Conor's. Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?

Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.

I was a hugely unchaperoned reader, and I would wander into my local public library and there sat the world, waiting for me to look at it, to find out about it, to discover who I might be inside it." [ Patrick Ness slams library cuts ( The Guardian , 23 June 2011)]

But what is a dream...?...Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?

Even though it walked and talked, even though it was bigger than his house and could swallow him in one bite, the monster was still, at the end of the day, just a yew tree.

But the thing about good ideas is that they grow other ideas.

Son" his father said, leaning forward. "Stories don't always have happy endings." This stopped him. Because they didn't, did they? That's one thing the monster had definitely taught him. Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.

I want a campfire box.

A book, he thinks at one point, rubbing his eyes, tired from so much focused reading. It's a world all on its own, too. He looks at the cover again. A satyr playing pan pipes, far more innocent-looking than when it got up to in the story. A world made of words, Seth thinks, where you live for a while. "And then it's over," he says.

But I'm still thinking about being born on a spaceship, an honest to badness spaceship. Growing up while flying along the stars, able to go wherever you wanted, not stuck on some hateful planet which clearly don't want you. You could go anywhere. If one place didn't suit, you'd find another. Full freedom in all direkshuns. Could there possibly be anything cooler in the whole world than that?

I began to feel that itch that every writer longs for: the itch to start getting words down, the itch to tell a story.

You imagine the devil, you make the devil.

Who is to say it is not everything else that is the dream?

Las historias son importantes -dijo el monstruo-. Pueden ser más importantes que cualquier otra cosa. Si portan la verdad.