I'd rather imagine him talking to the dead like Herzog -- or on the road somewhere between Kafka's Castle and the Leaning Tower of Isaac Babel, wearing Gogol's overcoat and Melville's whaling boots, with wheelbarrow and a kite, fishing the sky for souls.
I would rather imagine all the good Bill's money is doing out there in the world than to take one second to consider accepting the smelly shirt off some guy's back.
I would much rather imagine it than see all the banal mechanics.
Or, rather, imagine one approaching perfection like an asymptotic line in coördinate geometry".
You do rather imagine that TC's opening line in any chat-up situation these days involves a nervous vocational inquiry: "Hi.
He'd rather imagine the fabulous wealth to come as his wonder potion floods the world, securing "God only knows how many millions and millions".
Anything that isn't real history is "entertainment" or "titillation", in a world of "postmodern scepticism" where people would rather imagine themselves in Middle Earth than read about the much more complex and uncomfortable Middle Ages.
You rather imagine her, nose pressed up against the glass, longing to roar along with the Duchess of Devonshire (whom, she informs us, she once met at dinner), but not quite knowing how.
I think, if you could just imagine – suppose you had a choice, a world that's uncontrollable – would you rather imagine that you could control it, or give up?
Rather, imagine something akin to a paper thin, piping hot bruschetta topped with gossamer clams and a sauce produced by the very liquid they release upon baking.
