Quotes About Imagination

Si Emma Bovary n'avait pas lu tous ces romans, il est possible que son sort aurait été différent.

You know how chickens are, imagining the world coming to an end one moment, then pecking corn the next.

If a storyteller worried about the facts - my dear Lucian, how could he ever get at the truth?

Any fool can tell a story. Take a few odds and ends of things that happen to you, dress them up, shuffle them about, add a dash of excitement, a little color, and there you have it.

I decided that adventure was the best way to learn about writing.

Children may not understand all that's happening below the surface of a story. It doesn't matter. Because even though they may not be able to define or verbalize it, they sense there's something more than meets the eye; on an almost subliminal level, they're aware of a richness of texture, or meaning and emotion -- a richness that, in a great book, is inexhaustible. And the child may well come back to it again and again, perhaps long after he's stopped being a child.

The muse in charge of fantasy wears good, sensible shoes.

When imagination fails, compassion and humaneness dwindle and atrophy along with it. Unleavened by imagination, the variety and richness of life turn into flat abstractions; people become objects to be manipulated -- with the social consequences we know all too well.

There is an exuberance in good fantasy quite unlike the most exalted moments of realistic fiction. Both forms have similar goals; but realism walks where fantasy dances.

Yet long afterward, when all had passed away into distant memory, there were many who wondered whether King Taran, Queen Eilonwy, and their companions had indeed walked the earth, or whether they had been no more than dreams in a tale set down to beguile children. And, in time, only the bards knew the truth of it.

The vitality of art is its capacity for infinite expansion. One form doesn't preclude another any more than the existence of Mozart makes the existence of Bach superfluous.

Keep reading. It's one of the most marvelous adventures anyone can have.

Keep reading. It's one of the most marvelous adventures that anyone can have

Keep reading It's one of the most adventures that anyone can have

She fell asleep, and it was a sleep as thin as the night clouds, dotted with dreams that came and went like the stars.

The whole world had changed. Only the fairy tales remained the same. And they lived happily ever after

We're the ones who will fill in the blank places. Maybe we can make it different.

The whole world had changed. Only the fairy tales remained the same.

how could you describe a hill and snow to someone who had never felt height or wind or that feathery, magical cold?

Things seem more when you're little. They seem bigger, and distances seem farther.

A book, to me, is almost sacrosanct: such an individual and private thing. The reader brings his or her own history and beliefs and concerns, and reads in solitude, creating each scene from his own imagination as he does. There is no fellow ticket-holder in the next seat.

I'm going to give you the memory of a rainbow.

Dangers were no more than odd imaginings, like ghost stories that children made up to frighten one another: things that couldn't possibly happen.

Sometimes he awoke with a feeling of fragments afloat in his sleep, but he couldn't seem to grasp them and put them together into something worthy of telling at the ritual.