My favorite words in the world are these: in conjunction.They question curiosities in simple form and function. is a query of broadest scope. is wonder that fuels all hope.Together they lasso the mind like rope, and spur the wildest deductions!

I earn the magic of words by writing.I learn the myth of worlds by imagining.

He was so far away now, or maybe he just looked distant because we were imaging different things for our future.

This is what fascinates me most in existence: the peculiar necessity of imagining what is, in fact, real.

That's what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.

My favorite words in the world are t

What if stars were the glimmering tears of a giant, welling in his cheeks, waiting to fall at the first tender stroke of emotion? What if the moon were a wide-open eye gazing down on our tiny, little world and its tiny, little inhabitants as they rush to and fro in pursuit of tiny, little dreams? What if the sun were the glowing heart of a great beast, pumping hot blood to keep him alive while providing warmth for our pitiful world? Ahhh, imagination; it is a wondrous thing!

An inexhaustible imagination is the fountain of youth.

At the end, a journey based on my imagination will leave me imagining that I should have engaged the very thing I used my imagination to avoid.

Daydream. Because you can't accomplish what you've never fully imagined.

But then again, if you don't imagine, nothing ever happens at all. Imagining isn't perfect. You can't get all the way inside someone else. I could never have imagined Margo's anger at being found, or the story she was writing over. But imagining being someone else, or the world being something else, is the only way in.

Roaming is the easiest part, just wandering around, looking the places, imagining how people lived there at that time, breathing deeply the open air around there and feeling the best.

I am a writer. Imagining what someone would say or do comes to me as naturally as breathing.

We are always imagining something, It is practically impossible to be awake without imagining something. Then why not imagine something at all times that will inspire the powers within us to do greater and greater things?

I love a man who tickles me awake with reality, and kisses me goodnight with fictionBraids my hair with simplicity to compliment my contradiction And calms the waging wars inside with a simple boyish lookFor he is as much a mystery as he is an open book When I am at my worst, I am beautiful by his sideHe draws me in yet keeps me free, the moon to my tideHe relishes my quirks and antics just as much I love to keep him franticAnd if I ever fall, he doesn’t catch me right awayBecause he knows I’ll glideAnd even more so, knows how much I enjoy the ride…With the strength I lack, he holds my insecurity safe in-between his fingersAnd if there is ever a doubt while I am out running aboutHis steady grip lingersHe drives me crazy just as much as he keeps me saneAnd has the wisdom to keep me wild knowing I’ll die if ever tameSo when I am far, he frets not, because he knows he’s my favorite destination If ever I am down, he joins me on the ground and points out my favorite constellationsHe catches my sighs and lackluster repliesWith ageless humor and tenacity I draw blanks at his capacity And challenge his audacity But He wins because despite my stubbornness he is persistentYet forever fails because he belongs to nonexistent