#i

No doubt she was wondering how to fight him off. That made him feel like some sordid roué, thinking of nothing but his own pleasure. But as little as he’d been in polite company, even Ash knew better than to issue a clarification. “No, Miss Lowell,” Ash could imagine himself saying, “I would never force myself on you. I mean to seduce you into willingness. That’s all.” That would get him a fork stabbed through his hand, by the black look she gave her pudding. Thank God the knives had been removed along with the beef. ↗

— Courtney Milan

#imagination

Life Without Work To do nothing In this day and age, When so much pointless work Is being produced, Could almost be considered an achievement. It all compares most unfavorably With my own imaginary Body of work. ↗

— John Tottenham

#work #age

Never in a million years would he have imagined her to look at him like that - eyelids batting of their own volition and her lips puckering in expectation as she leaned slightly forward. Yet here she was doing precisely that - it was much too comical to stop the smile crossing his face. And that was when she hit him. It wasn't a faint slap on the cheek. No, Alexandra put all her weight behind the right hook that landed squarely across his jaw, throwing him completely off balance. Damnation! ↗

— Sophie Barnes

#sophie-barnes #imagination

Cei ce afirmă că omul Renașterii simțea, cugeta și acționa ca noi se înșeală enorm. Dimpotrivă, noi avem obiceiul de-acum multisecular de a refula în noi înșine tot ceea ce constituia imagine a lumii la omul Renașterii, până într-atât încât acesta se confundă cu „umbra” noastră, cu ceea ce învățat, prin educație, să extirpăm și să mutilăm din noi înșine. Adăpostim încă în noi un frate debil, din pricină că nu ne putem debarasa complet de el. Dacă el este caricatura noastră - de vreme ce acumulează într-însul trăsăturile noastre cele mai infantile și mai ridicole -, să încercăm pentru o clipă să ne punem în locul lui: firește, este foarte probabil ca el să nu aibă despre noi o imagine mai măgulitoare decât aceea pe care ne-o facem noi despre el. Dar orice comunicare este imposibilă, iar barierele de vârstă nu se ridică niciodată. De aceea, e mică speranța că într-o zi ne-am putea înțelege și strânge mâna. Dar e încă și mai redusă posibilitatea ca acest oaspete neliniștitor din profunzimile noastre să dispară vreodată. În lipsa putinței de a ajunge la o înțelegere cordială, trebuie să învățăm a-l privi fără prea multă superioritate. Căci noi am pierdut ceea ce el avea, iar el nu are ceea ce noi am cucerit. Până la urmă, aceste cantități sunt egale. Dacă noi am realizat câteva dintre dorințele cele mai arzătoare ale imaginației sale, nu trebuie să uităm că am distrus tot pe-atâtea ș că acestea s-ar putea vădi irecuperabile. ↗

— Ioan Petru Culianu

#omul-renașterii #imagination

For this new-married man approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well defended honour, you must pardon For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your brother,-- Being criminal, in double violation Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach Thereon dependent, for your brother's life,-- The very mercy of the law cries out Most audible, even from his proper tongue, 'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!' Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE ↗

— William Shakespeare

#measure-for-measure #shakespeare #death

For Leopardi, unhappy hedonist that he was, what is unknown is always more attractive than what is known; hope and imagination are the only consolations for the disappointments and sorrows of experience. Man therefore projects his desire into infinity and feels pleasure only when he is able to imagine that this pleasure has no end. ↗

— Italo Calvino

#experience

Their books are also different. Works of fiction contain a single plot, with all its imaginable permutations. Those of a philosophical nature invariably include both the thesis and the antithesis, the rigorous pro and con of a doctrine. A book which does not contain its counterbook is considered incomplete. ↗

— Jorge Luis Borges

#borges #counterbook #imaginable-permutations #orbis-tertius #tlön

Since history is not an objective reality, but only an imaginative reconstruction of vanished events, the pattern that appears useful and agreeable to one generation is never entirely so to the next. ↗

— Carl L. Becker

#truth #imagination

Quickly look down, now you tell me, when you were little did you ever imagine that you'd be wearing those shoes? Mind blowing isn't it? ↗

— Neil Leckman

#imagination

The artist is a collector of things imaginary or real. He accumulates things with the same enthusiasm that a little boy stuffs his pockets. The scrap heap and the museum are embraced with equal curiosity. He takes snapshots, makes notes and records impressions on tablecloths or newspapers, on backs of envelopes or matchbooks. Why one thing and not another is part of the mystery, but he is omnivorous. ↗

— Paul Rand

#design #process #art