Quotes About Imagination

La pequeña Elizabeth Grayson había nacido esperando que pasaran cosas. El hecho de que nunca sucedieran bajo la atenta vigilancia de su abuela y de la «mujer» no truncó para nada sus expectativas. Iban a suceder, estaban destinadas a hacerlo, en cualquier momento, y si no era hoy, bueno, entonces sería mañana.

At the first bend she came upon Miss Lavendar, standing under a big, broad-branching fir. She wore a gown of warm, rich red, and her head and shoulders were wrapped in a silvery grey silk shawl. 'You look like the Queen of the fir-wood fairies,' called Anne merrily.

lejanas. Y en esos sueños era más rica que en la realidad, porque las cosas que se ven quedan atrás, pero las que no se ven son eternas.

Bence ay, rüyalarla dolu alt?ndan küçük bir tekne. Ve teknenin burnu bir buluta deÄŸdiÄŸinde, rüyalardan baz?lar? tekneden dökülüp senin uykular?na girer.

L.M. Montgomery

He pipes—he pipes—and we must follow—Jem and Carl and Jerry and I—round and round the world. Listen— listen—can't you hear his wild music? The girls shivered.

Diana couldn't be improved upon even by imagination.

No son espléndidas esas gaviotas? ¿Le gustaría ser una gaviota? Yo creo que a mí sí; eso es, si no pudiera ser un ser humano. ¿No cree que sería bonito despertarse con los rallos del sol y zambullirse dentro del agua y salir otra vez, y así durante todo el día? ¿Y luego, por la noche, volar de vuelta al nido? Puedo imaginarme haciéndolo.

It simply makes me sense happy to be alive—it's such an exciting global. It wouldn't be 1/2 so thrilling if we realize all approximately everything, would it not? There'd be no scope for creativeness then, might there?

Fakat hayaller diyar?nda dolaÅŸaca?? zaman oraya tek ba??na gitmesi gerektiÄŸini uzun zaman önce öÄŸrenmiÅŸti. Oraya giden yol, en sevdiÄŸi arkada??n?n bile Anne'i takip edemeyeceÄŸi, büyülü bir yoldu.

Anne, with her elbows on the window sill, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorious dome of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth's own optimism. All the Beyond was hers with its possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years—each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.

If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet.

Hayallerde t?pk? gölgeler gibi, onlar? kafese koyamazs?n, sürekli dans etmek isteyen ele avuca s??maz ÅŸeyler...

But after dark, Marilla, it's different. That is when ghosts walk." "There are no such things as ghosts, Anne.

Gelecek henüz hiç ayak bas?lmam??, türlü ihtimallerle dolu bir yol olduÄŸu halde gençlerin yapmaktan hoÅŸland??? gibi hevesle, ümitle, ciddiyetle planlar?ndan ve isteklerinden konuÅŸtular.

Odada çok fazla eÅŸya var ve hepsi o kadar muhteÅŸem ki hayal edecek bir ÅŸey kalmam??. Fakir olman?n tek bir iyi taraf? var: Hayal edebileceÄŸin çok fazla ÅŸey oluyor.

There are some people to whom life will never be anything more than a kitchen garden; and there are others to whom it will always be a royal palace with domes and minarets of rainbow fancy.

The goblins of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, reaching out their cold, fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them into being. A white strip of birch bark blowing up from the hollow over the brown floor of the grove made her heart stand still. The long-drawn wail of two old boughs rubbing against each other brought out the perspiration in beads on her forehead. The swoop of bats in the darkness over her was as the wings of unearthly creatures.

Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive—it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?

The lines and verses are only the outward garments of the poem and are no more really it than your ruffles and flounces are YOU

Every night before I goto bed, I look out of my window and wonder if the dryad is really sitting here, combing her locks with the spring for a mirror. Sometimes I look for her footprints in the dew in the morning. Oh, Diana, don't give up your faith in the dryad!

her most serious shortcoming seemed to be a tendency to fall into daydreams in the middle of a task and forget all about it until such time as she was sharply recalled to earth by a reprimand or a catastrophe.

isn't it a wonderful morning? The world looks like something God had just imagined for His own pleasure, doesn't it? Those trees look as if I could blow them away with a breath—pouf! I'm so glad I live in a world where there are white frosts, aren't you?

I love books. I hope when I grow up to be able to have lots of them.