Quotes About Imagination

You have no idea how the story ends. You're not its author.

A veces todavía veo a aquella chiquilla en mi imaginación. Corre y ríe con sus gastados calzones y su levita prestada. Da vueltas por el Patio de Mármol, emocionada por su buena fortuna. Veo a esa chiquilla, pero no la reconozco.

Then he smiled and said, "A big, beautiful brand-new castle.

Nevermore is more than an illusion child. It is very real.

Belle hesitated. "What is this place?" she asked. "A bit of magic, like all goodbooks," the man replied. "An escape. A place where you can leave cares and worries behind." He smiled. "At least for a chapter or two." He offered her his arm.

But Belle, the servants…they tell me you're in there all day. Don't you think a bit of balance is needed? An escape can become escapism before we even know it. Books are wonderful things, but you can't live in someone else's story. You have to live your own story." Belle looked up at him with deep pain in her eyes. What she said next broke his heart for the second time that morning. "But what if you don't like your story? What then?

You've gone far away to a place with no horses and very little grass, and you're studying how to write a story with a happy ending. If you can write that ending for yourself, maybe you can come back.

Art is the most effective form of communication.

We're not talking about your life. We're talking about your writing. Your imagination. Your creativity. And it's time you learned there's a big difference between your writing and your life. To do it right, your writing takes an incredible amount of work. Your life takes more.

You can draw!" I exclaimed. "Yeah," his voice echoed from the kitchen. "I mean really draw [...]" "I told you I would major in art, hypothetically." "Yeah, but I thought the bullshit you fed me about lifting up the human spirit was compensation for not being able to draw.

I knew why I was claustrophobic, all right. But knowing why didn't make it go away. I wondered what it would be like to see the dark blue sky above us not as heavy drapes of cloth, the top of a circus tent, but as an infinite expanse. As everybody else saw it.

They were not permitted to so much as knock upon the door to the room in which he thought and wrote about art, but ted hadn't found a way to keep them from prowling outside it, ghostly feral creatures drinking from a pond at moonlight, their bare feet digging in the carpet....

People are bored. They're dead! Go to a shopping mall and check out the faces. I did this for years—I'd drive out to the malls on weekends and just sit there watching people, trying to figure it out. What's missing? What do they need? What's the next step? And then I got it: imagination . We've lost the ability to make things up. We've farmed out that job to the entertainment industry, and we sit around and drool on ourselves while they do it for us.

Reading is the nourishment that lets you do interesting work.

I wider that all the time - what will happen next" Kitty says. "sometimes, I imagine myself looking back on right now and I think, like, where will I be standing when I look back? Will right now look like the beginning of a great life or... Or what?

She says, My job is to show you a door you can open. And she taps the top of her head. It leads wherever you want it to go, she says.

His eyes weren't closed like they used to be when he'd make Danny tell about an ice castle on Pluto where a band of pirates lived. But wanting to be told a story, entertained, however that looks on a person's face--Danny saw this now and remembered it. It filled him with relief.

As children, Grace and I liked to pretend our life was a movie projected onto a giant screen before an audience who watched, rapt, as we ate our pork chops and finished our homework and went to sleep side by side in our twin beds, Grace rising to shut the closet door if I left it open. Gradually, mysteriously, that fantasy evolved into a vocation--I came to imagine my future not in terms of anything I might do or accomplish, but the notoriety that would follow.

Was everyone nuts in medieval times? Doubtful. But their imaginations were more active. Their inner lives were rich and weird.

People had to do something to shake things up or they would've keeled over from misery and boredom. So Christ came to dinner. Witches and goblins were hiding in corners. People looked at the sky and saw angels. And my idea--my, my...plan, my-- Mick: Mission. He didn't pause in his sanding. My mission is to bring some of that back. Let people be tourists of their own imaginations.

We've lost the ability to make things up. We've farmed out that job to the entertainment industry, and we sit around and drool on ourselves while they do it for us.

The twins had brought along Buck Rogers ray guns, but the wind turned their shots and death throes into pantomime.

I see now that the place I've been yearning for is my own imagination.

Think about medieval times, Danny, like when this castle was built. People were constantly seeing ghosts, having visions—they thought Christ was sitting with them at the dinner table, they thought angels and devils were flying around. We don't see those things anymore. Why? Was all that stuff happening before and then it stopped? Unlikely. Was everyone nuts in medieval times? Doubtful. But their imaginations were more active. Their inner lives were rich and weird.