Quotes About Imagination

Cinema, like music, should wash away the dust of everyday life.

L'oeil superficiel, l'oreille profonde et inventive. Le sifflement d'une locomotive imprime en nous la vision de toute une gare.

To Bresson, art is the only possible escape from the bitterness of impotence.

Art is not in the mind. Art is in the eye, in the ear, in the memory of our senses. Images, dreams.

A quote by film director Robert Bresson (1901-1999), 'Make visible what, without you, might perhaps never have been seen' (as cited in The Independent I, 2019), encapsulates why, although there appears to be a gap between peers' early language skills, it is necessary to go beyond rhetoric and supposition.

My movie is born first in my head, dies on paper; is resuscitated by the living persons and real objects I use, which are killed on film but, placed in a certain order and projected on to a screen, come to life again like flowers in water.[3]

Un cri, un bruit. Leur résonance nous fait deviner une maison, une forêt, une plaine, une montagne. Leur rebond nous indique des distances.

My movie is born first in my head, dies on paper; is resuscitated by the living persons and real objects I use, which are killed on film but, placed in a certain order and projected onto a screen, come to life again like flowers in water.

Provoke the unexpected. Expect it.

Robert Bresson

I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I'd see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.

Some unsuspected isle in the far seas, Some unsuspected isle in far-off seas.

God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.

It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truths, to mouths like mine at least.

Ah, did you once see Shelley plain,And did he stop and speak to you,And did you speak to him again?How strange it seems, and new!

That far land we dream about,Where every man is his own architect.

Books are my treasures—the best that I've got." Books are like rivers that flow through my head. Books are like roads," she just might have said. "Roads that connect my old self to my new. Unlocking our hearts to what's noble and true.

Perhaps it may turn out a sang,Perhaps turn out a sermon.

He is only fanastical that is not in fashion.

All our geese are swans.

All Poets are mad.

If you have no dreams, you shall live within them

I had continued jotting down good lines—once the eyes and ears are awakened to the possibilities they can't be put back to sleep...

Until you walk a mile in another man's moccasins you can't imagine the smell.