Quotes About Imagination

For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds.

Why not spend that time on art: painting, sculpting, charcoal, pastel, oils? Are words or numbers more important than images? Who decides this? Does algebra move you to tears? Can plural possessives express the feelings in your heart? If you don't learn art now, you will never learn to breathe!

This girl shivers and crawls under the covers with all her clothes on and falls into an overdue library book, a faerie story with rats and marrow and burning curses. The sentences build a fence around her, a Times Roman 10-point barricade, to keep the thorny voices in her head from getting too close.

Mr. Freeman sighs. No imagination. What are you thirteen? Fourteen? You've already let them beat your creativity out of you!

My English teacher has no face. She has uncombed stringy hair that droops on her shoulders. The hair is black from her part to her ears and then neon orange to the frizzy ends. I can't decide if she had pissed off her hairdresser or is morphing into a monarch butterfly. I call her Hairwoman.

None of [the books are] worth reading. There are no fairy tales, no faerie tails, no sword-swinging princesses or lightning-throwing gods.

Because I am still a little girl who believes in Santa and the tooth fairy and you.

I wanted to pull down a book, open it proper, and gobble up page after page

Maybe I'll be an artist if I grow up.

I'd given him bits and pieces of my peculiar life, but colored softer and funnier than they had been. I'd painted my dad as Don Quixote in a semi, on a quest for philosophical truths and the best cup of coffee in the nation.

I'm just going to pretend that a very good-smelling, incredibly warm stranger is sitting next to me, a harmless stranger.

I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world.

A group of little creatures is coming up the walk. A pirate, a dinosaur, two fairies, and a bride. Why is it that you never see a kid dressed as a groom on Halloween?

Cubism. Seeing beyond what is on the surface. Moving both eyes and a nose to the side of the face. Dicing bodies and tables and guitars as if they were celery sticks, and rearranging them so that you have to really see them to see them.

Welcome to the only class that will teach you how to survive. Welcome to Art.

Welcome to the only class that will teach you to how to survive" Welcome to Art.

When we were girls we rode horses disguised as bicycles

They were coming, on wings from far away, all the pictures and voices, smells, tastes, all the everything from the past was flying toward me as fast as it could.

Mr. Freeman says fear is a great place to begin art.

Maybe I'll be an artist if I grow up.

That's the story I am dying to knit together, if I could only find the pattern.

A fat white seed sleeps in the sky.

He says we will graduate knowing how to read and write because we'll spend a million hours learning how to read and write. Why not spend that time on art: painting, sculpting, charcoal, pastel, oils? Are words or numbers more important than images? Who decided this? Does algebra move you to tears? (Hands raise, thinking he wants answers.) Can the plural possessive express the feelings in your heart? If you don't learn art now, you will never learn to breathe!!!

I feel like any minute a guy in a lavender suit will burst into the room with a microphone and bellow, Another alternate-reality moment brought to you by Adolescence!