Best 4697 quotes in «imagination quotes» category

Love is not for thrill-seekers, dreamers, or children with short attention spans. And you, son, fit into all three of those categories.

Love is the reflection of a broken heart in a shattered mirror...

Love is what makes two people sit in the middle of a bench when there is plenty of room at both ends. Love means nothing in tennis,But it's everything in life

Love requires imagination more than experience.

Love releases us into the realm of divine imagination, where the soul is expanded and reminded of its unearthly cravings and needs. We think that when a lover inflates his loved one he is failing to acknowledge her flaws - "Love is blind." But it may be the other way around. Love allows a person to see the true angelic nature of another person, the halo, the aureole of divinity. Certainly from the perspective of ordinary life this is madness and illusion. But if we let loose our hold on our philosophies and psychologies of enlightenment and reason, we might learn to appreciate the perspective of eternity that enters life as madness, Plato's divine frenzy.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.

Love wins when reflections win over reflexes.

Lo, which a greet thing is affeccioun! Men may die of imaginacioun, So depe may impressioun be take.

Luck and nature shapes our imagination.

Make Believe When I wake up in the morning Not all is what it seems I drift through a world of make believe Between my real life and my dreams. Strange Adventures from the space book That I read the night before Crowd in upon on my drowsiness Through imagination's door. Between sleeping and waking The alarm clock's jangalang cry Becomes the roaring fire-railed rocket That hurls me through the sky. My bed's a silver spacecraft Which I pilot all alone Whisp'ring through endless stratospheres Towards planets still unknown. Outside through the mists of morning The spinning lights of cars In my make-believe space voyage Become eternities of stars. Is that my mother calling something That my dreams can't understand? Or can it be crackling instructions From far off Mission Command? Gareth Owen

Mandy would much rather have imaginary friends who were real than real friends who were imaginary.

Man came first through evolution. God came second through man's imagination.

Man is the least rational of beings, because his imagination constantly deceives him about reality

Manufactured spirit is much more reliable than organic spirit.

Man was first a hunter, and an artist: his early vestiges tell us that alone. But he must always have dreamed, and recognized and guessed and supposed, all the skills of the imagination. Language itself is a continuously imaginative act. Rational discourse outside our familiar territory of Greek logic sounds to our ears like the wildest imagination. The Dogon, a people of West Africa, will tell you that a white fox named Ogo frequently weaves himself a hat of string bean hulls, puts it on his impudent head, and dances in the okra to insult and infuriate God Almighty, and that there's nothing we can do about it except abide him in faith and patience. This is not folklore, or quaint custom, but as serious a matter to the Dogon as a filling station to us Americans. The imagination; that is, the way we shape and use the world, indeed the way we see the world, has geographical boundaries like islands, continents, and countries. These boundaries can be crossed. That Dogon fox and his impudent dance came to live with us, but in a different body, and to serve a different mode of the imagination. We call him Brer Rabbit.

Maps gave them control over their surroundings, for the first time ever. It showed how to get from one place to another. It sounds simple now, but a thousand years ago it would have been an incredible feat of imagination and imagery. All maps are drawn as though looking down. From a bird's point of view. From their god's point of view. Imagine being the first person to think of that. To be able to wrap their minds around a perspective they'd never seen. And then draw it.

Many writers write because they’ve been there, seen that, did it and burnt their fingers

Many people would have to hang by their teeth from a frayed cord suspended by a paper clip from a leaking hot air balloon over the Grand Canyon in order to feel what I feel standing on the third step of a stepladder trying to put millet in the bird feeder.

Many things enter our minds as undeveloped thought-seeds which continue to work in our subconscious long after we have dismissed them from our attention. One need only think of the unwanted fantasies, especially sexual ones, that beset every person at one time or another. Often such a fantasy develops from an image that originally held one’s attention for only a brief moment.

…Marco’s answers and objections took their place in a discourse already proceeding on its own, in the Great Khan’s head. That is to say, between the two of them it did not matter whether questions and solutions were uttered aloud or whether each of the two went on pondering in silence. In fact, they were silent, their eyes half-closed, reclining on cushions, swaying in hammocks, smoking long amber pipes. Marco Polo imagined answering (or Kublai Khan imagined his answer) that the more one was lost in unfamiliar quarters of distant cities, the more one understood the other cities he had crossed to arrive there…

Marin believes love is better in the chase than caught,’ she says. He raises his eyebrows. ‘That does not surprise me. It is not better. But it is easier. One’s imagination is always more generous. And yet, the chase always tires you out in the end.

Martial (the main character of LOCUS SOLUS) has a very interesting conception of literary beauty: the work must contain nothing real, no observations about the world or the mind, nothing but completely imaginary constructions. These are in themselves ideas from an extrahuman world.

Maybe everyone does have a novel in them, perhaps even a great one. I don't believe it, but for the purposes of this argument, let's say it's so. Only a few of us are going to be willing to break our own hearts by trading in the living beauty of imagination for the stark disappointment of words.

mašte mi, nažalost, nikad nije manjkalo, ponekad poželim da je nemam, mašta je teret, kamen oko naših nogu koji nas vuče na dno reke.

Masturbation = Imagination + Activity. Worry = Imagination + Negativity.

Material creation begins in a tiny corner of a large island called imagination.

May be it is good that we can’t quickly and easily turn the things we imagine into reality because had we had such a talent we would have so exaggerated it!

Maybe I'm a happy person simply because I can't imagine being otherwise. Maybe that's all happiness is: a lack of imagination.

Maybe...maybe her gift wasn't lying. Maybe her gift was imagination. Imagination was neither good nor bad. It was a little bit of both. Just like her.

Maybe she would have done more good as a playwright than as a doctor, after all — clichés were like plaque in the arteries of the imagination, they clogged the sense of what was possible. Maybe if enough people had worked to demolish clichés, the world wouldn't have ended.

Maybe Heaven will be a library. Then I will be able to finish my to-read list.

Maybe I am just an old fool with foolish thoughts, but those foolish thoughts allow this old fool to sleep quite comfortably at night.

Maybe that's all happiness is: a lack of imagination.

May God guide and lead us to a glorious future.

May I free myself from the ever-pressing chest and enter the garden of imagination by leisurely hiding brain on hill summits.

May the key of inspiration unlock your dungeon of creativity

May you see the world with wonder. And may you imagine only good things.

Memory is imagined; it is not real. Don't be ashamed of its need to create; it is the loveliest part of your heart. Myth is the true history. Don't let them tell you that there are no monsters. Don't let them make you feel stupid, just because you are happy to play down in the dark with your flashlight. The mystical world depends on you and your tolerance for the absurd. Be strong, my darling ones, and believe!

Memory is what you imagine happened.

Memory cannot produce a picture that Imagination has not retouched; and her pictures, even the ones least touched by Imagination, are no mere photographs, but the world of an artist.

Men cannot be nice and kind to a woman and have no affection for them.

Memories of the past are what drive us, whether to a life of beauty or a life of insanity is up to us.

Memory is imagination in reverse.

Menguraikan misteri ibarat mencari sebuah ruang dalam gedung kuno yang mahabesar. Gedung kuno yang sisa-sisa kemegahannya masih tampak, tanpa pemilik, dan ada sebuah ruang di dalamnya yang konon digunakan untuk menyimpan berbagai jejak kehidupan yang dijemput maut: pedang, pistol, tali tambang untuk gantung diri, tengkorak dan tulang-belulang, juga bau anyir darah. Begitu banyak ruang di gedung itu, tapi kunci-kuncinya berhamburan, bahkan ada yang hilang. Ia tak tahu ruang mana yang harus dibuka, bahkan tak tahu di mana akan menemukan kunci untuk membuka ruang yang tepat.

Moja maštovitost zakazala je zbog nedostatka hrabrosti.

Miracles happens everyday. You have to open your heart, mind and soul to see these miraculous encounters.

MISUNDERSTANDING" arises only when you see the things with Closed Eyes

Much is imagination, more is truth, but which is which I scarcely can tell myself.

Most of the time it may seem like I'm staring into nothingness, but there's a whole world playing out in my head.

Ms Rainn, you might say, is a writing prodigy and I'm her mentor.