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Updated: May 2, 2025
And a swaying cobra's head is not an easy thing to hit with an automatic-pistol bullet, supposing, for wild imagination's sake, that the hooded devil does not strike first. "It is not wise to move!" purred Yasmini.
Imagination's a splendid thing for a detective to possess, Dollops, but don't let yours run away with you in this fashion, my lad, or you'll never rise above what you are. Toddle along now, and look out for Mr. Narkom's arrival. It's after nine already, so he'll soon be here." "Anybody a-comin' with him, sir?" "I don't know, he didn't say. Cut along now; I'm busy!" said Cleek.
Life, limping after imagination's ten-league boots, saw them out of town a week later in a cheap but sparkling new roadster, saw them through the chaotic unintelligible Bronx, then over a wide murky district which alternated cheerless blue-green wastes with suburbs of tremendous and sordid activity.
But what were imagination's brightest picturings to the reality of the deep joy that flooded my being, when the veil was flung back, and my love stood revealed! Oh, Laura my life will be all too short to reward you for your fidelity." "You love me, Eugene, and therein is my unspeakable reward." "And will you never leave me, dearest?"
For years I have drawn these lovely ladies who make fiction salable to the masses. Many a novelist owes his motor-car and his country house to my brush. Two months ago, I determined to give up illustration forever, and devote my time to painting. I turned my back on the novelists. Can you imagine what happened?" "My imagination's a little tired," apologized Mr. Bland. "Never mind. I'll tell you.
"That's when my imagination's running loose," I explained. "Cousin Robert is talking about facts." "Oh!" said Phil. "It's rather an ugly portrait," I went on; "I don't suppose William of Orange was like it one bit." "But we have two reasons for calling Brederode the Taciturn," said Robert. "He has a way to keep still about things which other people discuss.
The man who could imagine himself loved by Yasmini and not be thrilled to his core would be inhuman, whatever reason and caution and caste and creed might whisper in imagination's wake. He found the man who had carried his bag asleep at the foot of the ramp, and taking the bag away from him, let him lie there.
He has been spoiled, I should imagine," he said. "Yup," replied the captain, with emphasis; "your imagination's a good one. It don't need cultivatin' any." The novel being out of the way, and its successor not yet far enough advanced in plot or general plan for much discussion, the "literary clinics" were no longer as frequent. But Pearson's visits to the Warren house were not discontinued.
She said she felt her inmost heart and soul crushed to pieces at the bare idea of the frightful threatenings far beyond the wildest imagination's conception of the terrible uttered to her by her mother, possessed, as she was at the time, by the most diabolical powers.
For Cosmo had nothing on his conscience to trouble it; his mind was stored with lovely images and was fruitful in fancies, because in temperament, faith, and use, he was a poet; the evil vapours of fever had just lifted from his brain, and were floating away, in the light of the sun of life; he felt the pressure of no duty was like a bird of the air lying under its mother's wing, and dreaming of flight; his childhood's most cherished dream had grown fact: there was the sylph, the oriad, the naiad of all his dreams, a living lady before his eyes nor the less a creature of his imagination's heart; from her, as the centre of power, had all the marvellous transformation proceeded; and the lovely strength had kissed him on the forehead!
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