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I discovered that my imagination came alive when I moved away from the immediate world around me.

My imagination was a great place to escape from all the anxiety and disapproval of my life... I had to live in my head... art was a way of making myself feel better.

I was encouraged to be imaginative and read, and it was a great childhood for a budding writer because I had the time and the freedom to go into a world of my own.

There was part of me that wanted to see the world and travel to distant places, but I could only do it in my imagination, so I read ferociously and imagined things.

Imagination rules the world.

When I was a kid, we had to rely on our imaginations for entertainment.

I loved the idea of seeing the world through a boy's eyes.

I spent my childhood in an imaginary world - probably because I needed an escape. I think that's one of the reasons people have imaginations - because they can't maintain existence here.

I felt the pressure of imagination against the doors of my mind was so great that they were going to burst.

My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool; it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.