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The trouble with men is that they have limited minds. That's the trouble with women, too." ["Existence" (1975)] ↗
It's going to be like an...aura, I guess." He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. "Explain?" "Like even though there are outside forces pushing through the walls, in here it's like a bubble of goodness. Like coming home." I could feel him smiling and it encouraged me to elaborate. "When I think of how others would see it, I imagine them seeing a force of goodness overshadowing a force of evil, protecting it. ↗
#jessica-shirvington #lincoln-wood #the-violet-eden-chapters #violet-eden #imagination
You don't know love when you see it. You've tricked something out with your imagination that you think love, and you expect the real thing to look like that. ↗
Someone described a writer's world as tormented, and I had to laugh. A tormented writer? I personally wouldn't have put those two words together. Emotions have the power to torment a soul, yes, I agree to that. But writers, through the formation of our characters, delve so often into the depths of a vast range of emotions that we earn the advantage. For we've examined every little thrumming, fracture, spark, pang, and darkening of the heart to a point that we understand and appreciate the necessity and strength of emotions as well as the cause and effects manipulating them. We understand. We can imagine. We sympathize. Our knowledge is power over the torment of emotional ignorance. I would suggest that those truly tormented are the readers of our works because those poor souls shall never know with such clarity and sentiment all the tiny little details that make our characters breath, move, and live before our very eyes. Perhaps, if torment does lurk among writers, it comes simply through knowing more about an imagined friend than can ever be adequately expressed in words. ↗
The power of things inheres in the memories they gather up inside them, and also in the vicissitudes of our imagination, and our memory--of this there is no doubt. ↗
Assimilate ubiquitously. Doublethink. To deliberately believe in lies, while knowing they're false. Examples of this in everyday life: "oh, I need to be pretty to be happy. I need surgery to be pretty. I need to be thin, famous, fashionable.". Our young men today are being told that women are **, **, things to be **, beaten, **, and shamed. This is a marketing holocaust. Twenty-fours hours a day for the rest of our lives, the powers that be are hard at work dumbing us to death. So to defend ourselves, and fight against assimilating this dullness into our thought processes, we must learn to read. To stimulate our own imagination, to cultivate our own consciousness, our own belief systems. We all need skills to defend, to preserve, our own minds. ↗
You mean,” said Caspian, “that we might be just–well, poured over it?” “Yes, yes,” cried Repicheep, clapping his paws together. “That’s how I’ve always imagined it–the World is like a great round table and the waters of all the oceans endlessly pouring over the edge. The ship will tip up–stand on her head–for one moment we shall see over the edge– and then, down, down, the rush, the speed– ↗
#reepicheep #the-edge-of-the-world #the-voyage-of-the-dawn-treader #imagination
Weather is a purely personal matter. There is no such thing as a climate that is cold or hot, good or bad, healthy or unhealthy. People take it upon themselves to create a fantasy in their imagination and call it weather. There's only one climate in the world, but the message that nature sends is interpreted according to strictly personal, non-transferable rules. ↗
Black would trust her with his secrets. He would protect hers. But did she trust him with her heart? Could she? She thought of Wendell, and no longer felt any remorse for her feelings. She did not love him. Her heart had been taken two years ago, by a stranger she thought she had conjured up in the atmosphere of her imagination. He had asked her to trust him—and there was only one way she knew how. She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out the crimson gown. No regrets. No seduction. No scandal. Only love. ↗
