I have a habit of letting my imagination run away from me. It always comes back though . . . drenched with possibilities.

To imagine is to risk being mentally blind.

Our imagination goes ahead of us, bringing our yesterday's imagings into present realities.

The power of imagination is a miracle.

Imagination seems to come fast and true in the morning and evening light, the bookends of the day, shifting as books come and go like moments in time. It’s during these times in which the phrases “It is so” and “It is not so” become “It might be so” and “It might not be so.” In this way, the black and white realism of the day transforms into colorful winged possibilities of morning and night.

Imagination is a sacred place.