Quotes About Imagination

Simon didn't think Meg really wanted to know how to eviscerate a rabbit. He could be wrong about that, but he just couldn't picture Meg pouncing on a bunny and ripping it open with her teeth. Maybe if he tried harder to picture it?

Are there weapons in a bookstore?" "It's a store full of books, which are objects that can be thrown as well as read," Monty replied blandly. The Crow cocked his head. "I had no idea you humans lived with so much danger.

What did you do to Zuulaman ?" "Zuulaman ? That's a word without meaning." "It's a place, as you very well know." Saetan shook his head. "It doesn't exist.

For a moment, Meg couldn't think, could barely breathe as a drawing of a cow with arrows pointing to the various cuts of meat popped into her head. Then she imagined a drawing of a human with the same kinds of arrows. Could there be a sign like that in the butcher shop?

He gently rapped her nose with his finger. "But that means you can't go telling him our secrets." Jaenelle looked at him, wide-eyed. "Do we have any?" "Not yet," he grumped, "but I'll make one up just so we do.

Why is the moon shaped like that?" he asked. "It's a heart," Meg replied. "Haven't you seen this symbol before?" "Sure. But it's not the thumpy-thump good-eating kind of heart." "It's a romantic heart." She looked up and narrowed her eyes. "Is that why you shelved the kissy books with the cookbooks? Because a heart is a heart?

Meg nodded. She didn't understand the feeling, but she turned the words into a kind of image that she could recall later. "Anyway

The art experience and the theater experience, gyms for the soul, generate heat and exercise the imagination, empathy, creative thinking, patience and tolerance. A gym for the soul is a place where personal investment is required and the return is real.

she made it clear that artists and audiences need to find the inner capacity to meet an event with spaciousness and a sense of possibility. Both life and art can prepare us for the openness that we need to bring ourselves to the unfolding moment.

I love the silent hour of night, For blissful dreams may then arise, Revealing to my charmed sight What may not bless my waking eyes.

Reading is my favourite occupation, when I have leisure for it and books to read.

You can plant a dream.

You are the trip I did not take; You are the pearls I cannot buy; You are my blue Italian lake; You are my piece of foreign sky.

Sometimes I dream a sentence and write it down. It's usually nonsense, but sometimes it seems a key to another world.

As in childhood we live sweeping close to the sky and now, what dawn is this.

Yellow? said Geryon. And he was thinking Yellow! Yellow! Even in dreams he doesn't know me at all! Yellow!

what is the difference between poetry and prose you know the old analogies prose is a house poetry a man in flames running quite fast through it

M: Fantasy just makes me hungrier.

Fiction forms what streams in us. Naturally it is suspect.

Gyermekként úgy élünk, szinte az eget súroljuk, de most miféle virradat ez.

Youth is a dream where I go every night and wake with just this little jumping bunch of arteries     in my hand.

Depression is one of the unknown modes of being. There are no words for a world without a self, seen with impersonal clarity. All language can register is the slow return to oblivion we call health when imagination automatically recolors the landscape and habit blurs perception and language takes up its routine flourishes.

The best fiction is often how we interpret our own lives and what we see as our common due. It is created usually as a means of avoiding reality which, if seriously considered, might negate our ability to strive for what might seem impossible.

All children are beautiful: the thing they do with their eyes that seems so dazzling when they take you all in, or seem to take you all in; it's like being looked at by an alien, or a cat - who knows what they see?