imagination [Theme] Page 2
And this is where people really need imagination.
© Franz Wertfollen Kaleidoscope
When the human spirit spurs and unleashes its thoughts, it is no longer able to stop, but naturally rushes from one extreme to another, from high to low, from good to evil; in the initial flight of imagination, he usually is carried away to the most perfect and lofty ideas, but, entering such areas from which it is no longer possible to distinguish the boundaries separating height from depth, he, in the same impulse and keeping the same course, falls headlong down to the very bottom of the abyss ...
Rich imagination - gives true freedom, joy and pleasure.
A successful person is always an amazing artist of their imagination. Imagination is much more important than knowledge, because knowledge is limited, and imagination is infinite.
If you think you can find a cheaper chick somewhere, go to hell!
The toy maker continued to laugh.
This is a purely feminine problem - to draw in the imagination and, because of this, see in reality an image that has nothing to do with real life. Everything is much more commonplace than we would like it to be.
- ... Apparently he was left on the stirrup while the two accomplices continued their search. I didn't know what to do next," Jamie said, rubbing his nose, "of course, I was safe in the shop, but I could not get out of there, I would immediately be noticed.
He turned around nervously, smoothing the scarlet fabric of the kielta on his knees.
- So what did you do? I asked.
"I bought a sausage," he simply replied.
More precisely, it was Dundin. This delicacy was prepared from duck meat with the addition of ham and lenison, all this was boiled, stuffed into the intestine and dried in the sun. The result was a sausage eighteen inches long, hard, like oak wood.
"I couldn't come out with a naked sword," Jamie continued. - On the other hand, I didn't want to pass by that guy in the proulka without weapons either.
***
"I definitely broke his nose," he said thoughtfully. - Anyway, this scoundrel recoiled, I slipped past him and started running down Pelletier Street.
Passers-by with screams ran away, just a flock of frightened geese: the sight of a huge Scotsman rushing down the street in a fluttering kilt could frighten anyone. Jamie didn't stop or wrap himself up - it was clear from the indignant screams coming from behind that the pursuers were still chasing him.
The Royal Guards rarely patrolled the streets of the area, and there was no need to wait for help from others, except that the hustle and bustle on the street could slightly delay the pursuers. Who wants to interfere in street showdowns, especially for the sake of some foreigner.
"The street there is straight, without any branches," Jamie said. - And I certainly needed to run to the place where you could bare the sword and press your back against the wall. On the run, I pushed the locked doors. Finally lucky - one was open.
Breaking into the semi-dark hallway, Jamie raced past the bewilded porter, then, throwing back the curtain, was in the center of a large, well-lit hall. It was the salon of the notorious Madame Eliza, he realized this when the tickling smell of perfume hit his nostrils.
"I understand," I said and bit my lip. - I hope you didn't have to pull out the sword there?
Jamie squinted slightly and replied evasively:
- I guess, Englishwoman, you have a strong imagination to imagine the effect of my sudden appearance in a brothel, and even with a huge sausage in hand.
Imagination did not fail, I laughed.
He turned around nervously, smoothing the scarlet fabric of the kielta on his knees.
- So what did you do? I asked.
"I bought a sausage," he simply replied.
More precisely, it was Dundin. This delicacy was prepared from duck meat with the addition of ham and lenison, all this was boiled, stuffed into the intestine and dried in the sun. The result was a sausage eighteen inches long, hard, like oak wood.
"I couldn't come out with a naked sword," Jamie continued. - On the other hand, I didn't want to pass by that guy in the proulka without weapons either.
***
"I definitely broke his nose," he said thoughtfully. - Anyway, this scoundrel recoiled, I slipped past him and started running down Pelletier Street.
Passers-by with screams ran away, just a flock of frightened geese: the sight of a huge Scotsman rushing down the street in a fluttering kilt could frighten anyone. Jamie didn't stop or wrap himself up - it was clear from the indignant screams coming from behind that the pursuers were still chasing him.
The Royal Guards rarely patrolled the streets of the area, and there was no need to wait for help from others, except that the hustle and bustle on the street could slightly delay the pursuers. Who wants to interfere in street showdowns, especially for the sake of some foreigner.
"The street there is straight, without any branches," Jamie said. - And I certainly needed to run to the place where you could bare the sword and press your back against the wall. On the run, I pushed the locked doors. Finally lucky - one was open.
Breaking into the semi-dark hallway, Jamie raced past the bewilded porter, then, throwing back the curtain, was in the center of a large, well-lit hall. It was the salon of the notorious Madame Eliza, he realized this when the tickling smell of perfume hit his nostrils.
"I understand," I said and bit my lip. - I hope you didn't have to pull out the sword there?
Jamie squinted slightly and replied evasively:
- I guess, Englishwoman, you have a strong imagination to imagine the effect of my sudden appearance in a brothel, and even with a huge sausage in hand.
Imagination did not fail, I laughed.
An optimist is a person devoid of imagination, and I have enough of it, especially when I am drunk. Alcohol is the source of many metaphysical unrest, as Daniel Robes said.
The reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The one who never reads is only one.
In the darkness of the night, the colors thicken, forcing the imagination to finish painting what is not really there.
No matter how much you talk with imaginary interlocutors, there is always something to say.
I put one experience higher than a thousand opinions, born only by the imagination.
I don't hear a piece of music in my imagination consistently, I hear it all at once. And that's a pleasure!
