Imagination Quotes - Page 10

By using repetition, images, and other strategies - all of which communicate truths in ways that are not cognitively or propositional - marketing forms us into the kind of persons who want to buy beer to have meaningful relationships, or to buy a car to be respected, or buy the latest thing to come along simply to satisfy the desire that has been formed and implanted in us. It is important to appreciate that these disciplinary mechanisms transmit values and truth claims, but not via propositions or cognitive means; rather, the values are transmitted more covertly...This covertness of the operation is also what makes it so powerful: the truths are inscribed in us through the powerful instruments of imagination and ritual.

The old author knew all too well that the imagination was a top cause for missing good meals.

A writer who is afraid to overreach himself is as useless as a general who is afraid to be wrong.

Imagination is the connecting of disparate things in novel ways.

Your imagination will take you to places.

To swear day and night by media slander will make one a bigger victim than the slandered. It doesn't take much to begin to fear a mere illusion of human badness.

Dreams are often dangerous.Those endowed with an imagination don't run a way from this world, They think about the fate of all its creatures. They worry even about the flowers and the ants. But someone with a dream wants to make everyone service his dream.Ghazalnus

Pretending doesn't require expensive toys.

People don't care about being duped as long as they're happy, which is the shortest form of happiness; hence 'self-duprication' becomes a habit.

My imagination is as rich as my bank account is empty.

Strong people don't put others down. They lift them up and slam them on the ground for maximum damage.

He imagines the water running in thick curving lines, like the drawings of the tree’s roots, cutting through stone and spilling over the earth. And then he reverses the flow of water, letting his imagination take over, and he sees the water racing north, uphill, towards the Catskills, weaving around towns, beneath bridges, rushing over stones and cutting through the trees, until it lands at the feet of Alice Pearson, who stands on the shore, looking out at the place where the water meets the sky.

We can only know what we can truly imagine. Finally what we see comes from ourselves.

If we speak of direct means for the culture of the imagination, the whole is comprised in two words--food and exercise.

Those for whom the world is not enough: saints, conquerors, poets, and all lovers of books.

He's like a storybook spirit, a little djinn or something, except instead of air or water his element is imagination.

I can dream, though - can't I, for myself? Even if you have not the imagination or the soul?

Imagination might not be limitless. It's still tethered to the universe of what we know.

This is why a woman makes things up: Because when she dies, those lives she never got to are all going down with her. All those possibilities will just site there like a bunch of school kids with their hands raised and uncalled on--each knowing, really knowing, the answer.

Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult.

Our hearts and imaginations need to dance and play if we are to live awake

We are blessed with a finite life, but our imaginations are infinite.

There is but one world and everything that is imaginable is necessary to it. For this world also which seems to us a thing of stone and flower and blood is not a thing at all but is a tale. And all in it is a tale and each tale the sum of all lesser tales and yet these are also the selfsame tale and contain as well all else within them. So everything is necessary. Every least thing. This is the hard lesson. Nothing can be dispensed with. Nothing despised. Because the seams are hid from us, you see. The joinery. The way in which the world is made. We have no way to know what could be taken away. What omitted. We have no way to tell what might stand and what might fall. And those seams that are hid from us are of course in the tale itself and the tale has no abode or place of beind except in the telling only and there it lives and makes its home and therefore we can never be done with the telling. Of the telling there is no end. And . . . in whatever . . . place by whatever . . . name or by no name at all . . . all tales are one. Rightly heard all tales are one.

Imagination can create crazy things in a place you don't know.

Imagination is the creative force that through necessity yields solutions to resolve the issues that face us.

The imagination goes where it will, you can be set aloft by it, or you can cage it with reason.

We all live partially in reality and partially in a world of make-believe.

My imagination was running amok again. Twice in one night. This never happens when I’m sitting in front of a typewriter.

Imagination is a poor substitute for experience.

Stand at the top of a cliff and jump off and build your wings on the way down.

The human mind is an endless vast of miraculous wonders.

Write the words on your heart.

Our imagination is bigger than this universe.

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

Life for both sexes--and I looked at them, shouldering their way along the pavement--is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle. It calls for gigantic courage and strength. More than anything, perhaps, creatures of illusion as we are, it calls for confidence in oneself. Without self-confidence we are as babes in the cradle. And how can we generate this imponderable quality, which is yet so invaluable, most quickly? By thinking that other people are inferior to oneself. By feeling that one has some innate superiority-- it may be wealth, or rank, a straight nose, or the portrait of a grandfather by Romney-- for there is no end to the pathetic devices of the human imagination-- over other people.

What we wish for, dream and imagine is the very framework and foundation of everything we create

My head’ll explode if I continue with this escapism.

You may think I’m small, but I have a universe inside my mind.

My life exists in an imagined reality.

To love a swamp, however, is to love what is muted and marginal, what exists in the shadows, what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised. And sometimes its invisibility is a blessing. Swamps and bogs are places of transition and wild growth, breeding grounds, experimental labs where organisms and ideas have the luxury of being out of the spotlight, where the imagination can mutate and mate, send tendrils into and out of the water.

Creativity is a fragile, delicate flower,which must be cautiously cared forand protected,from the harsh elementsof "human weather.

Imagination is the wonder of the wise.

My thoughts and imaginations are little seeds. I want them to grow tall and strong like a tree. I plant them in the soil of paper and let them grow to shade and support the world with beauty, love, joy.

Reason respects the differences and imagination the similitudes of things.

I think nature's imagination Is so much greater than man's, she's never going to let us relax

We are inspired by divine power to write.

I didn’t think you were real for a long time,” I confess. “I thought you were someone I’d dreamed up.”“A dream worth reliving every night for ten years?” he asks, chuckling and slowly loosening his hold.“For eternity,” I whisper, winding my arms around his neck to keep him close.“Good.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. “That is exactly how long I plan on keeping you.

Dr. Manning said he'd thought at first it might be sleeping sickness, or even narcolepsy, whatever that was, but - no, Pete was healthy enough physically. Manoel growled that the boy was bone-lazy, spending his time fishing and reading. Reading! No good could come of such things.'In a way you're right, Manoel,' Dr. Manning said hesitantly. 'It's natural for a boy to day-dream now and then, but I think Pedro does it too much. I've let him use my library whenever he wanted, but it seems... h'm... it seems he reads the wrong things. Fairy tales are very charming, but they don't help a boy to cope with real life.''Com certeza,' Manoel agreed. 'You mean he has crazy ideas in the head.''Oh, they're rather nice ideas,' Dr. Manning said. 'But they're only fairy tales, and they're beginning to seem true to Pete. You see, Manoel, there are really two worlds, the real one, and the one you make up inside your mind. Sometimes a boy - or even a man - gets to like his dream world so much he just forgets about the real one and lives in the one he's made up.''I know,' Manoel said. 'I have seen some who do that. It is a bad thing.''It would be bad for Pete. He's a very sensitive boy. If you live too much in dreams, you can't face real life squarely.'("Before I Wake...")

What that song? I ast. Sound low down dirty to me. Like what the preacher tells you its sin to hear. Not to mention sing.She hum a little more. Something come to me, she say. Something I made up. Something you help scratch out my head.

A writer is never alone, he is always with himself

The imagination gland doesn't die. It just becomes reliant on manufactured spirit.

The real world has its limits; the imaginary world is infinite. Unable to enlarge the one, let us restrict the other, for it is from the difference between the two alone that are born all the pains which make us truly unhappy.

Without imagination, things were only as they appeared - and that was blindness. Things were more than they appeared, so much more. When he considered an oak tree, it was not just a tree. To someone small, like an ant, it was a whole landscape of rugged barky cliffs and big green leaf-plains that quaked when the sky was restless, a place of many strange creatures where fearsome winged beasts could pluck and devour someone in a blink.

LIFE - Death's Very Emissary

Scribble out the world since it was not to your liking and make up a new one, something better.

Children arrive animists. They learn about life, themselves, and empathy by imagining the liveliness of everything they come into contact with.

In the strangely simple economy of the world people only get what they give, and to those who have not enough imagination to penetrate the mere outward of things and feel pity, what pity can be given save that of scorn?

Imagination is the faculty of the mind that God has given us to make the communication of his beauty beautiful.

When People Say How Can you Watch that, I reply Saying It Seems Your Imagination is Not as Good as mine Then Leave.

Like most girls, her imagination carried her just as far as the altar and no further.