Quotes About Imagination

We dream of carving dragons

Each must be discouraged, but not completely denied all possibility. Men, she had discovered, were ruled by their imaginations in that regard.

focus, I imagined. Only two of the chairs were occupied. Justin and Serene

Well, isn't that what all the world says of Bingtown? That if a man can imagine a thing, he can find it for sale here?" "And you've heard the rejoinder to that, haven't you? That no man can truly imagine being happy, and that's why happiness isn't for sale here.

On regarde souvent comme des fous les hommes de passion et les visionnaires

no man can truly imagine being happy, and that's why happiness isn't for sale here.

When I was little, I used to think that the sky at night was a big, black blanket that separated heaven from earth, and the stars were a whole bunch of little pin holes that the angels poked in the blanket so they could look down on us.

She seemed to have eyes like a fly, with multiple sections that could see sideways and backwards, and into things that hadn't even happened yet. Such as into Barry Hollis's desk where he had a packet of cigarettes and a copy of Playboy.

Life would be pretty monotonous if the sky was always blue.

their childhoods. How ridiculous to think there was some

The story is always better than your ability to write it.

Harry] had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child.

The great thing about fantasy is that you can drag dreams and longings and hopes and fears and strivings out of your subconscious and call them 'magic' or 'dragons' or 'faeries' and get to know them better. But then I write the stuff. Obviously I'm prejudiced.

My books happen. They tend to blast in from nowhere, seize me by the throat, and howl 'Write me! Write me now!' But they rarely stand still long enough for me to see what and who they are, before they hurtle away again. And so I spend a lot of time running after them, like a thrown rider after an escaped horse, saying 'Wait for me! Wait for me!' and waving my notebook in the air.

Novel reading tends to inflame the passions, pollute the imagination, and corrupt the heart. It frequently becomes an inveterate habit, strong and fatal as that of a drunkard. In this state of intoxication, great waywardness of conduct is always sure to follow. Even when the habit is renounced, and genuine reformation takes place, the individual always suffers the cravings of former excitement.

Doesn´t matter who you are or what you believe. Everybody has a ghost story

No matter what our age, we ought to never stop eating books, for books are the feast of the imagination.

Everything is created twice, first in the mind and then in reality.

Walking the stacks in a library, dragging your fingers across the spines -- it's hard not to feel the presence of sleeping spirits.

If Michelangelo had been straight, the Sistine Chapel would have been wallpapered.

We need to unearth the old stories that live in a place and begin to create new ones, for we are storymakers, not just storytellers.

I like to imagine that they were the first flowers I saw, over my mother's shoulder, as the pink blanket slipped away from my face and their colors flooded my consciousness. I've heard that early experience can attune the brain to certain stimuli, so that they are processed with greater speed and certainty, so that they can be used again and again, so that we remember. Love at first sight.

How can we begin to move toward ecological and cultural sustainability if we cannot even imagine what the path feels like?

How can we begin to move toward ecological and cultural sustainability if we cannot even imagine what the path feels like? If we can't imagine the generosity of geese?