290 Quotes About Imagery
- Author Patricia A. McKillip
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Watching the day slowly bloom into night. That’s how it always seemed to me: not the fading of a withered flower, but the opening of some dark, rich blossom, with unexpected hues and heavy scents.
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- Author Allan Frewin Jones
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Through the haze, bulbous shapes drifted to and fro about the town. Silka guessed they were the dirigibles of which her father had sometimes spoken--great elongated bags of gas ribbed and hung with gondolas, powered by grinding engines, gouting steam, and sparks as they cruised like airborne pigs, filled with passengers and cargoes.
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- Author E.R. Eddison
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The sun stooped to the western waves, entering his bath of blood-red fire. He sank, and all the ways were darkened.
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- Author Laurie Lee
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She leaned out of the window slow and sleepy, and the light came through her nightdress like sand through a sieve.
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- Author Erik Pevernagie
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What makes people tick? Life can be a trap of ennui, but imagery may be a redemptive escape from dullness. The iconic power and exuberance of images generate an inexorable addiction that needs to be gratified without respite. Here and now! ("Give me more images")
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- Author Ayn Rand
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We fell, but we never let the box fall from our hands. Then we ran. We ran blindly, and men and houses streaked past us in a torrent without shape.
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- Author Alan Doyle
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I have never eaten fire, or put a lit flare on my tongue. I have never wrapped my lips around a BBQ lighter and clicked it on. I have never taken hot embers from the woodstove and sucked them like candy. But I cannot imagine how any of these acts could have burned more than sipping a teaspoon of this liquor. If hell has a shooter, it must surely be this booze.
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- Author Rafael Sánchez Ferlosio
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They had painted a lady leaning her arms on the sill of the window. This lady was waiting for a husband. Her flesh was slack and she was some forty-five years old. Perhaps she had been waiting since she was fifteen. A rose and mauve lady that had not yet gathered her flesh and her beauty into dark clothes, and still waited, like a rose stripped of its petals, with her faded colors and her artificial smile, bitter as a grimace.
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- Author Erika McCoy
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Coalescing images and words in the mind are like that of a harmonious song to the ears.
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