Quotes About Imagination

Mother and Father apologize. They sing a show tune: 'What are we to do? What are we to do? She's so blue, we're just two. What, oh what, are we supposed to do?' In my headworld they jump on Principal Principal's desk and perform a tap-dance routine. A spotlight flashes on them. A chorus line joins in, and the guidance counselor dances around a spangled cane. I giggle. Zap. Back in their world.

Mostly I watch the scary movies playing on the inside of my eyelids.

You were born with the seeds of your talent, the ability to observe the world around you and weave piece of it into a story. I believe that most—if not all—people are born with these seeds. What separates the writers from the non-writers is that the writers actually sit down and, you know… write.

I open books, but the stories are all locked up and I don't know the magic words.

I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears.

I spin and weave and knit my words and visions until a life starts to take shape.

pretended they flirted back

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. For one breath everything feels better.

I can't believe she gets paid for dreaming up crap like that.

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. For one breath everything feels better. Then

Do you know that I saw a picture of myself and genuinely thought that someone had eaten a powdered doughnut over my head?

Oh my God," my husband said with a gasp, reading further. "He beat three men into unconsciousness? Alone? What is this, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Rapist? Does he fly and run across treetops? How long are his nails? What do you think his record for man beating is? Do we need four guys in the house at all times? Do we need five? You know, I could start a band and we could practice here.

and Vivian eyed something no one else could see. Then

there is no better way to learn how to write than by writing a novel.

Fiction writing starts off by requiring the towering arrogance that enables one to sit down at the typewriter in the belief that someone somewhere will actually be eager to read the productions of our own private imaginations. But that arrogance must be buffered by the humility that leads us to learn our craft and strive to make our work comprehensible and inviting and accessible to the reader.

fiction works because a part of the mind forgets that it's fiction while we're reading it.

Hopper was neither an illustrator nor a narrative painter. His paintings don't tell stories. What they do is suggest—powerfully, irresistibly—that there are stories within them, waiting to be told. He shows us a moment in time, arrayed on a canvas; there's clearly a past and a future, but it's our task to find it for ourselves.

They are properly described as works of fiction, with the understanding that fiction does not imply lack of truth so much as a willingness to refashion factuality in the service of drama, and perhaps in search of a higher truth.

Right there! See the blue on its head? See the long tail?" "Oh, there he is," I said, just to bring this little farce to an end. I couldn't see the bird, and I knew I wasn't going to see the bird, and I was rapidly tiring of the whole enterprise. "Beautiful, isn't he?" "Gorgeous," I agreed. "I'd have hated to miss him.

You may recall a Jules Feiffer cartoon—you may recall a hundred

i imagine therefore I belong and am free.

Our inventions mirror our secret wishes.

For us artists there waits the joyous compromise through art with all that wounded or defeated us in daily life; in this way, not to evade destiny, as do the ordinary people, but to fulfill it in its true potential - the imagination.

Any concentration of the will displaces life and gives it bias in motion. Reality, he believed, was always trying to copy the imagination of man, from which it derived.