Quotes About Imagination

What is art, after all, if not simply giving out what you have inside you? Didn't it all boil down to sticking a female in front of you and painting her as you feel she is? - page35

it was in that uncertain state of mind that he began to sketch her face (12)

Emily Brightwell

I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.

Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?

She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they would help her have better dreams. And if she couldn't sleep, she could just read them and be reminded of something so stunningly beautiful that her heart would swell and her bones would sigh and for just a second, the world would not seem like it was going to crush her.

The subjects had, indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with the spiritual eye, before I attempted to embody them, they were striking; but my hand would not second my fancy, and in each case it had wrought out but a pale portrait of the thing I had conceived.

Cap capellà del món no s'hauria imaginat un cel tan bell com el que ells concebien en aquella conversa innocent. Escoltant-los, sanglotant, no podia evitar desitjar que tots tres estiguéssim junts en aquell cel, fora de perill.

I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.

I listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

No parson in the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk

Half thinking, half dreaming, happier than words can express.

I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you.  What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here?

En ocasiones he soñado cosas que no he olvidado nunca y que han cambiado mi modo de pensar. Han pasado por mi alma y le han dado un color nuevo, como cuando al agua se le agrega vino.

Si miro al suelo, creo ver las facciones de ella grabadas en las baldosas. En los árboles y en las nubes, en todas las cosas durante el día y llenando el aire durante la noche, veo su imagen. ¡Creo verla en las más vulgares facciones de cada hombre y cada mujer, y hasta en mi propio rostro! El mundo es para mi una horrenda colección de recuerdos diciéndome que ella vivió y que la he perdido.

Perhaps such fragile happiness could never have lasted, but the way it came to an end was worse than anyone could have imagined.

No books!' I exclaimed. 'How do you contrive to live here without them? if I may take the liberty to inquire. Though provided with a large library, I'm frequently very dull at the Grange; take my books away, and I should be desperate!

He little imagined how

everybody have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you.

J'ai rêvé que je dormais de mon dernier sommeil à côté d'elle, mon cÅ"ur immobile contre le sien, ma joue glacée contre la sienne

Who of us knows just why we do what we do, much less another's whys, or what we're after? Art is not like that; cut and dried and hit-at like a bull's eye and done for a reason and explained away by this or that motive. It's climbing and striving for something always beyond.

More than ever was I convinced that the old way of seeing was inadequate to express this big country of ours, her depth, her height, her unbounded wildness, silences too strong to be broken - nor could ten million cameras, through their mechanical boxes, ever show real Canada. It had to be sensed, passed through live minds, sensed and loved.

Why must these people go on, and on, copying, copying fragments of old relics from extinct churches, and old tombs as though those were the best that could ever be, and it would be a sacrilege to beat them? Why didn't they want to out-do the best, instead of copying, always copying what had been done?

They already realized possibilities that we couldn't see. They heard the music and designed inner worlds out of what they dreamed....