Quotes About Imagination

despair cannot share the same space as wonder

They'd been attacked by lions, stampeded by elephants, flooded out by rains, made war on by "natives." The tales they told were simply incredible. There they sat on a heavily antimacassared horsehair sofa, two prim and proper ladies in ruffles and lace, telling these stupendous stories over tea.

She got a whole bunch of elephants and turtles everywhere. Some big, some little, some in the fountain, some up under the trees. Turtles and elephants. And all over her house. Curtains got elephants, bedspreads got turtles.

He had no such dreams, certainly. And if he had them, he did not recall them, on rising. Nor could he fathom why this should be so. In fact, dreams, the world of dreams, did not exist for him, as it existed for her. And unlike her, he did not sit before the dwindling fire of their hearth wondering, pondering, nagging the question really, What does this mean?

she say her head feel like its full of little white men with hammers.

He understands that creating a meal means creating your own reality...

did that require such a leap of the imagination? Perhaps affectation can be so thoroughgoing, so authentic in its details, that it stops being pretense… and becomes, for all practical purposes, real.

The most sturdy nouns fell to faint approximations under my pen.

What if Icarus hadn't hurtled into the sea? What if he'd inherited his parent's inventive bent? What might have wrought?

Perhaps I'm being histrionic, trying to displace my actual grief with this imaginary trauma.

It is not often that the real world conjures worse than what we can imagine.

Toddlers turn everything from blocks to shoes to bowls of cereal into means of transportation by the simple expedient of saying "brrmbrrm" and pushing them along the floor.

Let me tell you that a girl of eleven is capable of far more than is dreamt of in most universes.

Mother had it all wrong. Uncle Gloucester had been ruling the north justly and well. Why should he not rule all England as wisely? She could not imagine him wreaking vengeance. It was just not in character. Mother was overwrought with grief, she decided.

I want to suspend my disbelief. I want to see magic happen. I want to believe that there's a world just beneath the surface of our world where anything can happen, where magic is possible and dreams come true.

You're a throwback. To what? Jess considered this. Hi-tech at work, Emily was paradoxically old-fashioned in her life. She didn't even own a television. The nineteenth century, Jess concluded. No. Eighteenth. You can be eighteenth. I'll be nineteenth. I never pictured you as a Victorian. No, early nineteenth century, said Jess, who had always been a stickler when it came to imaginary games and books. The Blue Fairy, not Tinker Bell. Lucy, not Susan. Jo, not Amy. Austen, not the Brontes.

He'd told her about his asphalt water lilies and his sidewalk Van Goghs

Halle thinks your imagination is something you can put on like a jacket or pick up like a spoon—but Sam's imagination is private! You don't use your actual imagination for homework. It's like telling wishes.

Some people tell lies about the past. Her dad tells lies about the future. He is always telling a new story.

This was her version of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll—dating a chalk artist, and teaching school.

Prophetic poetry has alway drawn me. . . . Prophecy is not ingratiating poetry, and I like that [Prophecy and Poetry, Out of the Garden ].

Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

A bit of emptiness is actually very good for you. It leaves room for your imagination to flourish, ideas to hatch, or simply for your brain to rest. Without emptiness, your ability to be creative is severely diminished. Smartphones may be the work of some highly creative minds, but they are destroying creativity in their users.

was about ten years old. It was called The Geek.