#m

A writer's mind can never be empty. ↗

— Michael Acciarino

#imagination #imagination

Imagine this: Ice is coming to YOUR house. Can you HEAR it knocking? Are you ready? What will YOU do? ↗

— Cornelia Connie D. DeDona

#crystal-meth #drug-addiction #education #enabler #rehabilitation

Well, they had a lot of the things they found in his possession. They had the map, you know, that marked the route of the parade. They had statements from the bus driver and the taxicab driver that hauled him somewhere. ↗

— Henry Wade

#bus driver #cab driver #driver #found #had

In addition, unlike Othello, whose profession of arms is socially honorable, Shylock is a professional usurer who, like a prostitute, has a social function but is an outcast from the community. But, in the play, he acts unprofessionally; he refuses to charge Antonio interest and insists upon making their legal relation that of debtor and creditor, a relation acknowledged as legal by all societies. Several critics have pointed to analogies between the trial scene and the medieval Processus Belial in which Our Lady defends man against the prosecuting Devil who claims the legal right to man’s soul. […] But the differences between Shylock and Belial are as important as their similarities. The comic Devil of the mystery play can appeal to logic, to the letter of the law, but he cannot appeal to the heart or to the imagination, and Shakespeare allows Shylock to do both. In his "Hath not a Jew eyes…" speech in Act III, Scene I, he is permitted to appeal to the sense of human brotherhood, and in the trial scene, he is allowed to argue, with a sly appeal to the fear a merchant class has of radical social evolution: You have among you many a purchased slave Which like your asses and your dogs and mules, You use in abject and in slavish parts, which points out that those who preach mercy and brotherhood as universal obligations limit them in practice and are prepared to treat certain classes of human beings as things. ↗

— W.H. Auden

#shylock #imagination

He who doesn't fear his own imagination...is not worthy to envision. ↗

— Lionel Suggs

#imagination

I couldn't imagine it, living a pristine life in this big Georgian house and everything. It seemed heinous. So I left him. I thought I'd go mad, if I stayed. ↗

— Sarah Rayner

#suffocation #imagination

And finally this question The mystery of whose story it will be. Of who draws the curtain. Who is it that chooses our steps in the dance? Who drives us mad? Lashes us with whips and crowning us with victory when we survive the impossible. Who is it... that does all these things? Who honors those we love, for the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us and who holds the the key that can set us free? It's you... You have all the weapons you need... Now fight! ↗

— Zack Snyder

#art

The interior life is often stupid. Its egoism blinds it and deafens it; its imagination spins out ignorant tales, fascinated. It fancies that the western wind blows on the Self, and leaves fall at the feet of the Self for a reason, and people are watching. A mind risks real ignorance for the sometimes paltry prize of an imagination enriched. The trick of reason is to get the imagination to seize the actual world—if only from time to time. ↗

— Annie Dillard

#imagination #interior-life #self #imagination

An author is like a jeweller, with words as their gemstones and imagination the precious metals. ↗

— Steve Smy

#gemstones #imagination #jeweller #precious-metals #words

All these years Litvinoff had imagined he was so much like his friend. He’d prided himself on what he considered their similarities. But the truth was that he was no more like the man fighting a fever in bed ten feet away than he was like the cat that had just slunk off: they were different species. ↗

— Nicole Krauss

#imagination