Quotes About Imagination

Y hagas lo que hagas, por mucho que lo intentes, no puedes dejar de soñar.

Is this a dream? If so, let me never wake up.

I get down on my stomach, wriggle over the edge, and pretend like I'm letting down my hair for him to climb.

Curling your hair is an intrinsically hopeful act. I like to curl mine at night and think of all the things that could happen tomorrow.

books are awsome

Jenny Nimmo

If you are tired of everything you possess, imagine that you have lost all these things.

What Kafka said: I write to close my eyes.

Someone had given my daughter a doctor's kit. Carefully, she takes her own temperature, places the pressure cuff around her arm. Then she takes the cuff off and examines it. "Would you like to be a doctor when you grow up?" I ask her. She looks at me oddly. "I'm already a doctor," she says.

They used to send each other letters. The return address was always the same: Dept. of Speculation.

Sometimes I find myself having little conversations in my head with the punk rock kids upstairs.

Sometimes on the subway platform I still sway, imagining her in my arms.

The Creatives, she calls them, because she's not one; she's one of the Suits. I like the sound of it. Like there might be a rumble later.

Don't look," he says. "I'm inventing this. No one will ever know what I have done except me.

What did you do today, you'd say when you got home from work, and I'd try my best to craft an anecdote for you out of nothing.

It's not knowing that drives you mad. It's imaging things that you wish you couldn't think up all by yourself.

Children who "play well" become enterprising and active adults.

Bartholine was not of their kind. She had no interest in the affairs of the fields and the stables, no taste for the dairy and the kitchen — none whatever. She loved poetry. She lived on poems, dreamed poems, and put her faith in them above everything else in the world.

So Niels grows up, and all the influences of his childhood work on the plastic clay. Everything helps to shape it; everything is significant, the real and the dreamed, what is known and what is foreshadowed— all add their touch, lightly but surely, to that tracery of lines which is destined to be first hollowed out and deepened and afterwards flattened out and smoothed away.

The bona fide artist must be governed as little as possible by law-governed nature, the material encountered. This can lead to attempts to escape, or direct attention away from, all things concrete and finite, but much commoner in modernity has been a conception of the artist as one who masters and controls, bends the material to predetermined purposes.

The artist, that is to say, begins by looking to the world around him, and then, on the basis of his powers of observation, offers some perceptual account of it for our appreciation.

Art reminds us that in fact the world always exceeds our grasp and perception.

would like to see a fund set up that does nothing but pay for great public buildings, follies, laser shows, towers, fountains, airships, aqueducts. Big, expensive stuff designed solely to make us go 'wow'. I even have a name for this fund. We could call it the lottery.

We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams.