Quotes About Imagination

Call me Dolores. Like they do in the stories.

From where you are you can hear in Cockle Row in the spring, moonless night, Miss Price, dressmaker and sweetshop-keeper, dream of her lover, tall as the town clock tower, Samson syrup-gold-maned, whacking thighed and piping hot, thunderbolt-bass'd and barnacle-breasted, flailing up the cockles with his eyes like blowlamps and scooping low over her lonely loving hotwaterbottled body.

The ball I threw while playing in the park has not yet reached the ground.

Our snow was not only shaken from whitewash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely white-ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunderstorm of white, torn Christmas cards.

Or a nacreous sleep among soft particles and charms

I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on in the world between the covers of books, such sandstorms and ice blasts of words, such slashing of humbug, and humbug too, such staggering peace, such enormous laughter, such and so many blinding bright lights breaking across the just-waking wits and splashing all over the pages in a million bits and pieces all of which were words, words, words, and each of which were alive forever in its own delight and glory and oddity and light.

furor poeticus

Children in wonder watching the stars, Is the aim and the end.

If you dream that you are flying and continue to believe that you can fly even after you wake up, that becomes a problem.

when the world is puddle-wonderful

Every answer asks a more beautiful question

The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.

All art originates in the human mind, in our reactions to the world rather than in the visible world itself, and it is precisely because all art is "conceptual" that all representations are recognizable by their style.

One day, she ventured to the palace library and was delighted to find what good company books could be.

I'd think of these images - people dying, a city drowning - instead of thinking about Rosemary, dying, drowning.

Here is something I love about Gat: he is so enthusiastic, so relentlessly interested in the world, that he has trouble imagining the possibility that other people will be bored with what he's saying.

Will you pretty please with brown sugar and cinnamon make a fucking Scrabble word?

Once you are there, the rest of the universe seems nothing but an unpleasant dream.

Well, you can laugh. It's kind of a hippopotamus and it's kind of a car. And also, it's kind of a church. The meaning is what the viewer sees in it.

What if In another universe, A split reality,

Tom Sawyer,

I've been a little sad that so many girls love Tommy so much. Hello!?! Tommy Hazard and Prince Charming - neither one exists!

When things are bad, I'll pray or imagine someone watching over me, listening. Like the first few days after my dad left, I thought about God. For protection. But the rest of the time, I'm trudging along in my everyday life. It's not even slightly spiritual.

Our family has always loved fairy tales. There is something ugly and true in them. They hurt, they are strange, but we cannot stop reading them, over and over.