1 It seems to me that her imagination is beginning to work.
2 I took it that fear had helped imagination, and said nothing.
3 I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings.
4 That awful journal gets hold of my imagination and tinges everything with something of its own colour.
5 Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me.
6 The last conscious effort which imagination made was to show me a livid white face bending over me out of the mist.
7 His redeeming quality is a love of animals, though, indeed, he has such curious turns in it that I sometimes imagine he is only abnormally cruel.
8 I began, too, to think that my imaginings were of the night, and the gloom, and the unrest that I have gone through, and all the terrible anxiety.
9 It is a lovely country; full of beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave, and strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities.
10 I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there.
11 I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting.
12 Again I felt that horrid sense of the reality of things, in which any effort of imagination seemed out of place; and I realised distinctly the perils of the law which we were incurring in our unhallowed work.
13 The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.