Quotes About Imagination

So that's where I get it from. My dad. He lives in a fantasy world.

To picture him, sitting at his desk at home, scribbling away with a pen and paper, endears him to me so completely. It gives me shivers. Currents of electricity from my scalp down to my toes.

I lie back down and close my eyes and imagine his arms are still around me, and that's how I fall asleep.

So maybe she's got a little bit of me in her after all. Kitty continues. "We could put red food coloring in the syrup, too, to make it look like blood. A bloody heart!" No, never mind. Kitty is all her own.

I didn't think of it as lying. I thought of it as playing make-believe. I told Kitty she was adopted and her real family was in a travelling circus. It's why she took up gymnastics

But then she says, "What if we use our cookie cutter to make heart-shaped pancakes instead? And put in red food coloring?" I beam at her. "Attagirl!" So maybe she's got a little bit of me in her after all. Kitty continues. "We could put red food coloring in the syrup, too, to make it look like blood. A bloody heart!

Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It's like you see them through a special lens - but maybe if it's how you see them, that's how they really are." -Belly

You only likes guys you don't have a shot with, because you're scared. What are you so scared of?" I back away from him, right into the wall. "I'm not scared of anything." "The hell you're not. You'd rather make up a fantasy version of somebody in your head than be with a real person.

Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind.

When we pull up in my driveway, Kitty runs out of the house and over to the car. "Spider-Man!" she shrieks. She's still in her ninja costume, though she's taken the mask off. "Are you coming inside?" I glance at Peter. "He can't. He has to go condition." Peter spends an hour a day conditioning for lacrosse. He's very dedicated to it. "Condition?" Kitty repeats, and I know she's imagining Peter washing his hair.

Y quién sabe medir el atractivo de una persona? Algunas veces las personas son un millón de veces más atractivas para ti en tu mente. Es como si tú los vieras por un lente especial, pero quizá es así como tu realmente los ves.

Most of them are probably in their fifties, but still. I like the way he looks at me, like I am a wood nymph that he happened upon one day and just had to take home to keep.

Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It's like you see them through a special lens—but maybe if it's how you see them, that's how they really are. It's like the whole tree falling in the forest thing.

Prefieres crear una fantasía de alguien en tu cabeza que estar con la persona real.

First published in the US by Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers,

With his fair hair and milky skin and rosy cheeks, he looks like he could be an English farmer's son. But he's slim, so maybe the sensitive farmer's son who steals away to the barn to read.

to a person like that? Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It's like you see them through a special lens—but maybe if it's how you see them, that's how they really are. It's like the whole tree falling in the forest thing.

Tu préfères te faire des films plutôt que d'être avec quelqu'un pour de vrai

It might be my imagination, but I think I hear his heart beating. His is beating and mine feels like it's breaking.

Porque vivo en el mundo real, no como tú. Prefieres habitar en un mundo de fantasía antes que ver cómo son los demás realmente.

might be my imagination, but I think I hear his heart beating. His is beating and mine feels like it's breaking.

Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It's like you see them through a special lens—but maybe if it's how you see them, that's how they really are.

I always wondered what the boys looked like in December. I tried to picture them in cranberry-colored scarves and turtleneck sweaters, rosy-cheeked and standing beside a Christmas tree, but the image always seemed false. I did not know the winter Jeremiah or the winter Conrad, and I was jealous of everyone who did. I got flip-flops and sunburned noses and swim trunks and sand.

Yes, well, today you'd make a really great Moaning Myrtle.