Quotes About Imagination

Well, that's one reading of it, Elisabeth says. My own preferred reading is: free spirit arrives on earth equipped with the skill and the vision capable of blasting the tragic stuff that happens to us all into space, where it dissolves away to nothing whenever you pay any attention to the lifeforce in her pictures.

free spirit arrives on earth equipped with the skill and the vision capable of blasting the tragic stuff that happens to us all into space, where it dissolves away to nothing whenever you pay any attention to the lifeforce in her pictures.

One might imagine it'd be unpleasant, being sealed inside a tree. One might imagine, ah, pining. But the scent lightens despair. It's perhaps a little like wearing a coat of armour except much nicer, because the armour is made of a substance through which the years themselves, formative, have run.

It's what we do with the myths we grow up with that matters.

Hello, he said. What you reading? Elisabeth showed him her empty hands. Does it look like I'm reading anything? she said. Always be reading something, he said. Even when we're not physically reading. How else will we read the world? Think of it as a constant.

Acum doreÈ™ti s? vorbeÈ™ti cu una din fetele sau b?ieÈ›ii sau ce-or fi care au scris mesajele, sau cu unul din cei È™apte pitici? Pe care l-ai dori? Îl avem pe Mutulic?, Hapciu', Moroc?nosu', RuÈ™inosu', Somnorosu', N?sosu' È™i înc? unul al c?rui nume va trebui s?-l caut pentru dumneata.

Art in nature.

She unfolds the piece of paper in her hands and she reads again the story written on it.

The fact is, imagine.

I like the idea of blue and pink together, Elisabeth said.

the whole point of Bagatelle is that you trifle with the stories that people think are set in stone.

Elisabeth is faintly perturbed. She realizes this is because she likes to imagine her mother knows nothing much about anything.

Why should we imagine that gender matters here? the tutor said. That's actually my question too, Elisabeth said.

One blink of a camera eye (can't quite put his finger on the name of the photographer) and that child dressed in leaves became all these things: sad, terrible, beautiful, funny, terrifying, dark, light, charming, fairystory, folkstory, truth.

There was once a child whose mother fell asleep. The end. Is that it? I said What else do you need to know? you said. Can't you tell me a little more about them? I said. (I was beginning to despair of your storytelling technique.)

All the characters in my books are imagined, but all have a bit of who I am in them - much like the characters in your dreams are all formed by who you are.

I feel more influenced in my own work by dreams than I do by other writers' works in a way. Or by popular culture, movies - what else is there to write about than love and loss?

They should invent some way to tape-record your dreams. I've written songs in my dreams that were Beatles songs. Then I'd wake up and they'd be gone.

Welcome To My Nightmare!

A)nd while imagination flourishes alone and in secret, it also craves fellowship.

the number-one rule in making shit up: Make it so unbelievable that people have to believe it.

Writing is waiting. That's the whole of it. If you sit in your chair not doing anything else for long enough, the answer will come. You do have to be in your chair, though, ready to write it down.

Nine-year-old girls are perfect humans,

Each poet creates an expatriate space, a slightly skewed domain where things are freshly felt because they are freshly said.