#imagery

...his monstrous dreams, peopled by ape-like creatures and by harlots with gleaming jewel eyes.. ↗

— James Joyce

#wonderful-imagery #dreams

I wasn't so inclined to tell anyone else in my family about my plan. It was very new and felt about as vulnerable as a day-old mouse, its eyelids still sealed shut. ↗

— Jeanne Ray

#family

The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page. ↗

— Augustine of Hippo

#books #broad-mindedness #classic #education #imagery

When I saw "Ulysses" on Georgie's bedside table and Tom Finch's name written on it in a scrawl so like my old man's, I felt that I wanted to read it as a preparation for what's about to happen to us all. I understand where the brawny part of my father and I come from - Bill. I'm not saying bill's not smart, but my old man is a pretty intelligent guy and that kind of intellect came from tome Finch. I want to turn the pages he turned. But honestly I'm actually finding it hard. I think that the whole world has lied and nobody has read the book completely. It's a conspiracy up there with Roswell. ↗

— Melina Marchetta

#location- #intelligence

My mother always says that love is like a snakebite, a venom slowly spreading through your veins ↗

— Cynthia Hand

#metaphor #beauty

I think I make better use of language and imagery than when I started out. ↗

— Terry Brooks

#i #i think #imagery #language #make

You cannot base a whole movie on just the imagery alone. It has to be the story and the characters. ↗

— John Lasseter

#base #cannot #characters #imagery #just

In Dreams... well, I was slightly overcompensating with that. I was a bit like a director for hire, so maybe I was putting too much imagery that was familiar to me into it. ↗

— Neil Jordan

#director #dreams #familiar #hire #i

In the height of the gusts, in my high position, where the seas did not break, I found myself compelled to cling tightly to the rail to escape being blown away. My face was stung to severe pain by the high-driving spindrift, and I had a feeling that the wind was blowing the cobwebs out of my sleep-starved brain. ↗

— Jack London

#inspiration #inspirational

The necropolis has never seemed a city of death to me; I know its purple roses (which other people think so hideous) shelter hundreds of small animals and birds. The executions I have seen performed and have performed myself so often are no more than a trade, a butchery of human beings who are for the most part less innocent and less valuable than cattle. When I think of my own death, or the death of someone who has been kind to me, or even of the death of the sun, the image that comes to my mind is that of the nenuphar, with its glossy, pale leaves and azure flower. Under flower and leaves are black roots as fine and strong as hair, reaching down into the dark waters. ↗

— Gene Wolfe

#death