It is ... through the world of the imagination which takes us beyond the restrictions of provable fact, that we touch the hem of truth.
A long-simmering resentment against the world can burn off more calories than you might imagine.
In his imagination, he grabbed his dad by the throat and squeezed until an old mans face turned purple. No pleading, no begging, simply... nothing.
Faith ― acceptance of which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove.
You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?” “Yes.” He didn’t dare move. “Then why are you still wearing clothes?
A cage stokes our emotions and imaginations, regardless of whether you are inside looking out, or outside looking in.
All words, then, belonging to the inner world of the mind, are of the imagination, are originally poetic words.
A thought experiment courtesy of the Stoics. If you are tired of everything you possess, imagine that you have lost all these things.
An imagination submitted to the movement of the Holy Spirit is a powerful tool in the hands of God to write testaments of His glory.
Individual words, sounds, squiggles on paper with no meanings other than those with which our imagination can clothe them.
Don't allow your imagination to colour events as lesser men would, and see movement in motionless things.
As we drove, I imagined we were standing still and the world was coming toward us.
It seems to me that my lack of faith is not, as I once thought, a triumph of the rational mind, but rather a failure of the imagination - an inability to tolerate mistery.
It was the nicest thing she could imagine. It made her want to have his babies and give him both of her kidneys.
Just imagine walking away from something you’ve started. Something you really believed would be good. I don’t think i could ever do that.
...how impossible it is to really make a choice, when the best choice of all is an option you couldn’t even imagine.
How did we get to the point where we're paying for bottled water? I imagine it was some weird marketing meeting over in France.
I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
The forces of the sea give rise to imagination, which reflects them according to the nature and disposition of the perceiver. The sea itself is undifferentiated and without bias.
Where have all the flowers of old Singapore gone? Gone, one would imagine, with the old folks and homes
Deprived of human intercourse, I inevitably overvalue the imagination and expect it to make the mundane glow with an aura of self-transcendence.
