|
537a863
|
We all do what we do.
|
|
life
mgg
ray-bradbury
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
891f5c3
|
Slushai, Lio, shche ti kazha k'de ti e greshkata... ti prosto si zabravil, che shche doide chas, shche doide den, v koito vsichki nie shche triabva da izlezem ot tova neshcho [Mashina na shchastieto] i da se v'rnem otnovo k'm mr'snite chinii i razkhv'rlianite legla. Dokato si v'tre v mashinata, zalez't trae vechno, v'zdukh't e nasiten s ukhaniia, vremeto e toplo. Vsichko, koeto ne iskash da sv'rshi, ne sv'rshva. No nav'nka detsata chakat da..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
171d740
|
The entire history of mankind is problem solving, or science fiction swallowing ideas, digesting them, and excreting formulas for survival. You can't have one without the other. No fantasy, no reality. No studies concerning loss, no gain. No imagination, no will. No impossible dreams: No possible solutions.
|
|
fiction
imagination
science
science-fiction
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
d757db2
|
The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
65fb8e8
|
Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.
|
|
knowledge
melancholy
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
d1e01a6
|
Colored people don't like
|
|
death
fire
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
09530f2
|
The form does not matter. Content is everything.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
8287366
|
Time is so strange, and life is twice as strange. The cogs miss, the wheels turn, and lives interlace too early or too late. I lived too long, that much is certain. And you were born either too early or too late. It was a terrible bit of timing. But perhaps I am being punished for being a silly girl. Anyway, the next spin around, wheels might function right again.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
82bb185
|
I'm afraid of them and they don't like me because I'm afraid.
|
|
outcast
outsider
social-phobia
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
32bf5e8
|
Sometimes I am stunned at my capacity as a nine-year-old, to understand my entrapment and escape it... Where did I find the courage to rebel, to change my life, live alone? I don't want to over-estimate all this, but damn it, I love that nine-year-old, whoever in hell he was.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
aed4962
|
The library was like a stone quarry where no rain had fallen in ten thousand years. Way off in that direction: silence. Way off in that direction: hush. It was the time between things finished and things begun. Nobody died here. Nobody was born. The library, and all its books, just were. We
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
182e490
|
One day you discover you are alive. Explosion! Concussion! Illumination! Delight! You laugh, you dance around, you shout. But, not long after, the sun goes out. Snow falls, but no one sees it, on an August noon.
|
|
death
life
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
d5e7742
|
Where do we go from here? Would books help us?" "Only if the third necessary thing could be given us. Number one, as I said: quality of information. Number two: leisure to digest it. And number three: the right to carry out actions based on what we learn from the interaction of the first two."
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
3330000
|
When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never car..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
1e281e0
|
Ya no existe el cohete. Nunca existio. Ni la gente. No hay nadie en todo el universo. Nunca hubo nadie. Ni planetas. Ni estrellas". Eso decia. Y luego algo acerca de sus pies y sus piernas y sus manos: "No mas manos", decia. "Ya no tengo manos. Nunca las tuve. Ni cuerpo. Nunca lo tuve. Ni boca. Ni cara. Ni cabeza. Nada. Solamente espacio. Solamente el abismo"."
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
05e513c
|
By living well, by observing as you live, by reading well and observing as you read, you have fed Your Most Original Self.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
06ca48c
|
He had felt a braveness which he had thought to be the genuine thing, and now he knew that it had been nothing but shock and the objectivity possible in shock.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
22b4725
|
Thus with the wisest of you all; you are ever unfixed.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
a382468
|
420 All Day
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
1171aa0
|
It was one of those things they keep in a jar in the tent of a sideshow on the outskirts of a little, drowsy town. One of those pale things drifting in alcohol plasma, forever dreaming and circling, with its peeled, dead eyes staring out at you and never seeing you. It went with the noiselessness of late night, and only the crickets chirping, the frogs sobbing off in the moist swampland. One of those things in a big jar that makes your stom..
|
|
drifting
jar
jars
noiselessness
pale
peeled
plasma
preserved
swampland
vat
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
aa485b7
|
Bet I know something else you don't. There's dew on the grass in the morning.' He suddenly couldn't remember if he had known this or not, and it made him quite irritable. 'And if you look'--she nodded at the sky--'there's a man on the moon.' He hadn't looked for a long time.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
48616af
|
Do you know why books such as this are so important? They have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me, it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass screaming past an infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper the more literary you are. That's my definition anyway..
|
|
details
meaning
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
5f8d551
|
Montag wanted to fly near the sun and now that he's burnt his damn wings, he wonders why
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
225b079
|
Chapter 31 NOTHING MUCH else happened, all the rest of that night.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
092c6c5
|
He was a victim of concussion. When it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff, whirled in a centrifuge, and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never-- quite--touched--bottom--never--never--quite--no not quite--touched bottom... and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either... never... quite... touched... anything
|
|
fahrenheit-451
falling
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
63e3665
|
It is not books you need, it's some of the things that once were in books...take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the ..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
e971ae1
|
He smelled of moon swamps and old Egyptian bandages. He was something found in museums, wrapped in nicotine linens, sealed in glass. But he was alive, puling like a babe, and shriveling unto death, fast, very fast, before their eyes.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
506fe17
|
June dawns, July noons, August evenings over, finished, done, and gone forever with only the sense of it all left here in his head. Now, a whole autumn, a white winter, a cool and greening spring to figure sums and totals of summer past. And if he should forget, the dandelion wine stood in the cellar, numbered huge for each and every day. He would go there often, stare straight into the sun until he could stare no more, then close his eyes ..
|
|
dandelion-wine
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
9d3ae15
|
Offri al popolo gare che si possono vincere ricordando le parole di canzoni molto popolari, o il nome delle capitali dei vari Stati dell'Unione o la quantita di grano che lo Iowa ha prodotto l'anno passato. Riempi loro i crani di dati non combustibili, imbottiscili di "fatti" al punto che non si possano piu muovere tanto son pieni, ma sicuri d'essere "veramente bene informati". Dopo di che avranno la certezza di pensare, la sensazione del m..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
d2dc822
|
August was almost over. The first cool touch of autumn moved slowly through the town and there was a softening and the first gradual burning fever of color in every tree, a faint flush and coloring in the hills, and the color of lions in the wheat fields. Now the pattern of days was familiar and repeated like a penman beautifully inscribing again and again, in practice, a series of it's and w's and m's, day after day the line repeated in de..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
02dbc22
|
I hate a Roman named Status Quo!' he said to me. 'Stuff your eyes with wonder, ' he said, 'live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
3aa04f7
|
I thought you could beat, pummel, and thrash an idea into existence. Under such treatment, of course, any decent idea folds up its paws, turns on its back, fixes its eyes on eternity, and dies.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
c3cf5e0
|
There are three phrases that make possible the world of writing about the world of not-yet (you can call it science fiction or speculative fiction; you can call it anything you wish) and they are simple phrases: What if . . . ? If only . . . If this goes on
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
3c67b1f
|
I like to watch people. Sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them. I just want to figure out who they are and what they want and where they're going.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
64a0422
|
Khiliada litra chai i petstotin biskviti stigat za edno priiatelstvo.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
13f95c5
|
And when the war's over, someday, some year, the books can be written again, the people will be called in, one by one, to recite what they know and we'll set it up in type until another Dark Age, when we might have to do the whole damn thing over again. But that's the wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth doing.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
880da0a
|
If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides of a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget that their is such a thing as war. If the government if inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.
|
|
political
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
80f164b
|
They knew how to live with nature and get along with nature. They didn't try too hard to be all men and no animal. That's the mistake we made when Darwin showed up. We embraced him and Huxley and Freud, all smiles. And then we discovered that Darwin and our religions didn't mix. Or at least we didn't think they did. We were fools.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
7d171ef
|
It doesn't matter if being so alive kills a man; it's better to have the quick fever every time.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
7d3a3de
|
Who said childhood was the best time of life? When in reality it was the most terrible, the most merciless era, the barbaric time when there were no police to protect you, only parents preoccupied with themselves and their taller world.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
675153e
|
They began by controlling books of cartoons and then detective books and, of course, films, one way or another, one group or another, political bias, religious prejudice, union pressures; there was always a minority afraid of something, and a great majority afraid of the dark, afraid of the future, afraid of the past, afraid of the present, afraid of themselves and shadows of themselves.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
0baecaf
|
The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
f0f94a2
|
Lilacs on a bush are better than orchids. And dandelions and devil grass are better! Why? Because they bend you over and turn you away from all the people and the town for a little while and sweat you and get you down where you remember you got a nose again. And when you're all to yourself that way, you're really yourself for a little while; you get to thinking things through, alone. Gardening is the handiest excuse for being a philosopher...
|
|
philosopy
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
0f0e42b
|
This was all he wanted now. Some sign that the immense world would accept him and give him the long time needed to think all the things that must be thought.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |