Quotes About Imagination

Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I'm still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it's no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, "Thank God that's not me".

Simon had drawn three pictures. In the top left corner, like a salutation, was a ghost. The middle had a big sketch of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator. The third in place of a signature, was a lightning bolt surrounded by fog. Beside the drawing, someone had scrawled in inch-high letters 10 A.M. Tori snatched it from me and turned it over. So where's the message? Right there. I pointed from picture to picture. It says: Chloe, I'll be back, Simon.

Simon's walls were covered in what looked like pages ripped from a comic book, but when I squinted, I realized they were hand drawn. Some were black-and-white, but most were in full color, everything from character sketches to splash panels to full pages, done in a style that wasn't quite manga, wasn't quite comic book.

I can just imagine what the humidity has done to my hair. I'm going to meet your family looking like a poodle with a live wire shoved up its butt. - Paige Winterbourne

You will leave her alone," Gabriel said. "One way or another." "That sounds like a death threat, Walsh." "Then you lack imagination.

Tell me half a cup's worth of story and we'll call it a night.

Take this. It's one of my gothics. The seventies were, sadly, not the time to include sex scenes of any satisfying nature. When the lights go out, you can imagine the hero and heroine are lying in bed, fully clothed, making shadow puppets on the wall.

Ghost hunters can be the most ingenious breed when it comes to inventing ghastly tales, but ask them to think up a name for the ghost of a woman dressed in white, and they give you "the White Lady.

too fanciful. Which is silly really. The point of fantasies is to dream big, imagine things beyond our reality. Yet I'd always edited my dreams into the realm of possibility. Reach high Ã¢â'¬Â¦ but not too high. Keep yourself safe from the inevitable disappointment of wanting too much. That was the message my parents imparted to their younger daughter.

I'm not even sure I saw someone." "You sensed someone?" He made a face. "Now that really sounds nuts." "Hey, if you're okay with me imagining myself as a pine marten, I'm okay with you sensing unseen assailants.

He pointed to the bandage on his neck. "Elf bite." "Vampire elf?" Gabriel said. "There is no such thing as vampires." I turned to Ricky. "He keeps hoping for them, and he's always disappointed." "I am not—" Gabriel began. "Are too.

But that's what dreams are for—to weave reality and fantasy and memory and stitch together something you can't hope for in waking life. To fulfill that little part of you that wants something so bad.

Maybe there's something out there. Giant eels or whatever." "Giant eels?" Corey let out a whoop of a laugh, too loud and too long. Desperate to cast off the fear and unease and find his old self again. "Hey, I'm not the moron who was worried about great white sharks," said Sam. "Um, that was Nic.

The muse is a fickle bitch. Woke me at five. You're

Guess Mom's taking the day off," Corey said as we drew close enough to see the sheriff's SUV in the drive. "Considering she thinks you're dead, I'd imagine she's taking a lot of days off," I said.

I believe you are conflating your fantasy worlds." "You

Do you like Vampires? I don't know I've never met one.

If your creation is taking 99% perspiration, it stinks and you need more inspiration.

Jeremy Mars knows a lot about the planet Mars, although he's never been there. He knows some girls, and yet he doesn't know much about them. He wishes there were books about girls, the way there are books about Mars, that you could observe the orbits and brightness of girls through telescopes without appearing to be perverted.

There were two girls in a room. They were reading a book… Look again, and the room is empty. The end of the story will have to wait.

When Becka was a kid, she kept a suitcase under the bed. The suitcase was full of things that were to be rescued in case of an earthquake or a fire or murderers. The suitcase's secondary function was using up some of the dangerous, dark space under the bed which might otherwise have been inhabited by monsters or dead people. Here be suitcases.

Q: How far will he travel? A: He will travel so far, he will never come home again. His feet will never touch the ground, not for the rest of his life. He will never see his family again. He will never see the cannon again, but for the rest of his life, he will dream of her round, fixed, roaring black mouth.

Even nightmares have to sleep now and then.

No one ever built a fort because the world was safe.