Best 4697 quotes in «imagination quotes» category

It is impossible to enjoy divine protection without the word of God. You must be a word addict.

It is just my imagination that flies, While she is wrapped up in her bedsheets like a nest.

It is neither poor handling nor the weather that turns the pages of a book a fine sepia. It is the reader's imagination.

It is my opinion that the isolated mind loses its purchase on reality all too easily and becomes prone to fantasy.

It is not in the gene of an Intellectually blinded person to experience the paradise in the writer's imagination.

It is not hard to live through a day, if you can live through a moment. What creates despair is the imagination, which pretends there is a future, and insists on predicting millions of moments, thousands of days, and so drains you that you cannot live the moment at hand. ("A Father's Story")

It is not often that you see life and fiction take each other by the hand and dance.

It is not our external actions that attract others, but it is the actions of our imaginations, visualizations, and subconscious minds that attract others.

It is often simply from lack of creative imagination that we do not go far enough in suffering.

It is only by persistent focus on your dreams; you will pull all the divine forces for the passion of fulfilled dream.

It is only when memory is filtered through imagination that the films we make will have real depth.

It is that kind of thinking that is the problem; that movies, video games and the Internet, devices that simply amuse the imagination are more interesting than what a library stocks.

It is the mythic experience, the mythic imagination that opens, reveals depth and mystery, which places the human in the context of the nonhuman, and so, forces retreat, humility, and awe, in the presence of spaces beyond our will.

It is thus that man, with fervent imagination, can endue the rough stone with loveliness, forge the mis-shapen metal into a likeness of all that wins our hearts by exceeding beauty, and breathe into a dissonant trump soul-melting harmonies. The mind of man—that mystery, which may lend arms against itself, teaching vain lessons of material philosophy, but which, in the very act, shows its power to play with all created things, adding the sweetness of its own essence to the sweetest, taking its ugliness from the deformed.

It is through imagination that we transcend understanding and travel into the world of possibilities.

It means they engineered the spirit to have a negative effect on the imagination.

It needs to be emphasized, however, that the ability of fantasy to achieve a sense of reality is not an indication that the traumatic abuses recalled by patients with multiple personality disorder are fabricated or made-up. What is important to recognize is that the fantasy elaborations that are connected with dissociated states in these patients are efforts at restitution and represent attempts at mastering traumatic experiences through the use of imaginative solutions. This paper is examining the use of fantasy as it participates in the formation of the clinical picture of multiple personality disorder and is not intending to cast doubt on its traumatic origin.

I told my imagination to discontinue communication with my thoughts.

I tried to kill myself when I was thirteen but failed. That was the greatest failure of my life.

It's a huge disservice to classify all minds as either closed or open. I find the best minds are closed by openable windows.

It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine.

It's all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It's just as Yeats said: "In dreams begin responsibility. Turn this on its head and you could say that where there's no power to imagine, no responsibility can arise." [...] Just like Adolf Eichmann caught up in the twisted dreams of a man named Hitler. - Oshima

Its all about perception in life, For some One minus One = One & for some its Zero.That's the only difference.

It’s all about “Priorities” There's No Such Thing as "Busy

Its amazing to contemplate what human mind is capable of, incredible functionality, specialty of describing something beautifully without even experiencing called the work of imagination, carries us to a world we have never been before.

It's crazy to hate all the roses because one punctured you. Give up all your dreams because one of them did not perform

It's hard to describe what flying feels like when you're standing on the ground.

...it seemed to me that the entire world was like a palace with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another. We were able to pass from one room to the next only by exercising out memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised these capacities, and forever remained in the same room

It's in my head now. It's a memory. No camera could have captured what I saw and felt.

It’s hard to safeguard a genuine life course, when love tips over from endearing care into tedium, through laziness of imagination or loss of interest, and the storyline becomes barren and desolate, insipidly dull, turning into a threadbare act with the same trite modus operandi. “The same procedure as every year, James!” ("Things needing to be changed")

It's like a nesting doll of imagination! It's like a painting of a painting! It's like the wind catching a chill from the wind, or a wave taking a dip in the ocean. It's like reading a novel that merely describes another novel. It's like music tapping its foot to a tune and saying 'Oh! I love this song!

It’s like returning to a familiar room and noticing objects had been moved while you were gone—a chair here, a picture frame there. Items that were once brand new were suddenly broken in and worn from age. It was all very subtle, but enough to suspect paranormal activity or a cruel practical joke. When no one else saw what you saw, the freak factor really kicked in, because you were singled out and left questioning reality." ~Ellia

It's lovely to know the world can't interfere with the inside of your head.

It’s no secret that we all live within a damning illusion called denial. We are doomed by our own far-reaching imaginations and beliefs that extend into a glorified version of eternity. How are we to live sanely on the earth, with our heads in the clouds, when we are so far from being giants? How are we to claim higher ideals, when God is absent from the conversations in our minds? There can be no going back, once we’ve believed in perfection. We are slain by the stories we were taught as children, stories about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and a God who cares. We pass these heirlooms to our children with the same fervor with which they were delivered, never allowing ourselves to doubt their authenticity or value. I wondered what the view held outside the proverbial slaughterhouse. For a spiritually awakened person, a good God seems the only reasonable answer. If there’s no eternal good, then what would be the use of life? Man lays the tracks of good and evil before the train of his evolution, moving onward into places he barely understands

It’s only with mild surprise I find I don’t so much read anymore, but rather teeter, wonder, take flight, like Pascal, like Madeline, like Bemelmans, like Lamorisse, like my daughters. Like Robert. Like anyone who has ever started or finished a book, or a love affair, or confused the two, in sweet anticipation of the fall.

It’s not TIME that heals everything, it is SLEEP... Sleeping is the perfect answer to all doubts and troubles. Leaving the world of reality behind and disappearing in to a world of make-believe and imaginations, is a solace you get from nothing else...

Its not your fault for not being there. Its my fault for thinking you would be

It's okay, Ms Rainn, you were simply lost in your imagination.

It's time for a whole new myth!

It's time to stop focusing on what others think of you. They think they know you, but don't. They're stuck in the figment of their imagination.

It’s tragic how the lack of imagination so often shapes our defeat.

It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in the tree’s power. But I believed in the power of human imagination more, of projecting our dreams and wishes into a safe space where we could place our disappointments if they didn’t come true.

It was all beginning to run together in the back of Eleanor's mind, and the things that had probably really happened were confused with the things that probably hadn't. And every day everything in her whole past life - the real things and the imaginary things - was being pushed farther and farther back, because going to high school was so enormous, so vast! so different from all of Eleanor's life before. The milling crowds in the hall between classes, all those jostling elbows and swollen shoulders and bosoms, all those enormous hands and feet, they pushed and thumped and shoved at Eleanor's childhood, until there was no room anymore for anything but now, right now, a hurrying rushing now that was just incredibly thrilling, or absolutely rotten and just disgusting, this heaving present moment, right now.

It was something he would figure out only after Bobby dumped him: that his imagination was what made the real world, and real people, only barely palatable for him.

It takes a relative amount of courage just to get out of bed each day. There are those who are stronger in their courage, and they help to compel us along a little further in the fulfillment of our faith.

It was a fairy tale, no fooling. It was unreality becoming real. This frightened her. Because people don't care for unreality becoming real. It pricks their well-fed minds, you see, with something like a hunger pang. They prefer the logical stuffiness of expectancy. It is only at certain times that they weaken, letting imagination in. That's the time to get them. (“The Disinheritors”)

It was a strange trek — the sullen leading the apathetic, followed by the confused, all tailed by the inveterately amused.

It was nice meeting you three, and I'm sure under different circumstances it would have been a pleasure.

It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing.

It was what she imagined doing heroin would be like: terrible for you but impossible to resist.