#nat

But this kiss? This is one I won’t forget any time soon. She tastes…Jesus, I’ve never done drugs, but I imagine this is what that first snort of cocaine feels like, that first shot of heroine. Goddamn addictive. ↗

— Emma Chase

#tangled #imagination

The mind can imagine terrors far more horrific than you could ever physically bear, just like the mind will tune out those physical hurts when the pain surpasses what your body can endure. ↗

— Raine Miller

#blackstone-affair #imagination

The circus had been unlike anything I could ever imagine and I could not walk away. I wanted to be a part of the magic, create it and wield it with such skill that it looked effortless. I wanted to fly. ↗

— Laura Lam

#circus #magic #imagination

In the strangely simple economy of the world people only get what they give, and to those who have not enough imagination to penetrate the mere outward of things and feel pity, what pity can be given save that of scorn? ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#pity #scorn #imagination

He looked at me, finally. I wanted to believe I saw softness in his eyes, but I could have imagined it. I did that all the time. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could see him reaching toward me, his lips millimeters from my own. But always… always I opened my eyes and it wasn’t real. ↗

— Cora Carmack

#imagination

I was cautious in what I said before the young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact, there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes that half led me to imagine she was not. ↗

— Edgar Allan Poe

#insanity #sanity #short-story #imagination

The inertia of the mind urges it to slide down the easy slope of imagination, rather than to climb the steep slope of introspection. ↗

— Marcel Proust

#imagination

I guess a bit part of serious fiction’s purpose is to give the reader, who like all of us is sort of marooned in her own skull, to give her imaginative access to other selves. ↗

— David Foster Wallace

#reading #imagination

The harassed look is that of a desperately tired swimmer or runner; yet there is no question of stopping. The creature we are watching will struggle on and on until it drops. Not because it is heroic. It can imagine no alternative. Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face - the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young-man - all present still, preserved as fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us - we have died -what is there to be afraid of? It answers them: But it happened so gradually, so easily. I am afraid of being rushed. ↗

— Christopher Isherwood

#living #imagination

Day lets her imagination free with an urban adventure that is not only fast-paced, but also erotic and addictive. [on Eve of Darkness ] ↗

— Sasha White

#endorsement #sj-day #imagination