|
c3f2cba
|
Amoebas cannot sin because they reproduce by fission. They do not covet wives or murder each other.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
708c64d
|
Off hours, yes. But time to think? If you're not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can't think of anything else but the danger, then you're playing some game or sitting in some room where you can't argue with the four-wall televisor. Why? The televisor is 'real.' It is immediate, it has dimension. It tells you what to think and blasts it in. It must be right. It seems so right. It rushes you on so quickly to its own concl..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
e91256a
|
And Quell asked, 'Ah, but what is nature?' Socrates answered, sparks showering, 'God surprising himself with odd miracles of flesh.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
8f59102
|
You really expect answers to your calling when you are young. You feel that whatever you may think can be real. And some times maybe that is not so wrong.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
668efc5
|
And because they had mass, they became simpler," said Beatty. "Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books leveled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me?" "I think so." Beatty peered at the smoke pattern he had put out o..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
79d47ff
|
All the time he had been talking his hands had wandered over the Illustrations, as if to adjust their frames, to brush away dust- the motions of a connoisseur, an art patron.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
120f5fc
|
What more easily explained and natural? With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginative creators, the word 'intellectual,' of course, became the swear word it deserved to be. You always dread the unfamiliar. Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answer..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
e535e4a
|
When I hit the atmosphere, I'll burn like a meteor. "I wonder," he said, "if anyone'll see me?" The small boy on a country road looked up and screamed. "Look, Mom, look! A falling star!" The blazing white star fell down the sky of dusk in Illinois. "Make a wish," said his mother. "Make a wish." --
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
bc77512
|
My uncle says the architects got rid of the front porches because they didn't look well. But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn't want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong kind of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
625172c
|
The ideas will follow me. When they're off-guard, and ready to be born, I'll turn around and grab them.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
b1be0df
|
But what is shape? Only a cup for the blazing soul that God provides us all.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
d801fd4
|
The voice clock mourned out the cold hour of a cold morning of a still colder year.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
38e8c79
|
From now on I hope always to stay alert, to educate myself as best I can. But, lacking this, in future I will relaxedly turn back to my secret mind to see what it has observed when I thought I was sitting this one out. We never sit anything out. We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. M
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
57b5f19
|
How long he stood he did not know, but there was a foolish and yet delicious sense of knowing himself as an animal come from the forest, drawn by the fire. He was a thing of brush and liquid eye, of fur and muzzle and hoof, he was a thing of horn and blood that would smell like autumn if you bled it out on the ground. He stood a long time, listening to the warm crackle of the flames.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
99cbd31
|
They were all alone. Their voices had died like echoes of the words of God spoken and vibrating in the shared deep.
|
|
god
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
cec19e5
|
The Lord is not serious. In fact, it is a little hard to know just what else He is except loving. And love has to do with humor, doesn't it? For you cannot love someone unless you can put up with him, can you?
|
|
humor
love
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
bd31a03
|
Fantasy? That's for the Fire Birds. Fantasy, even when it takes science-fictional forms, which it often does, is dangerous. It is escapist. It is daydreaming. It has nothing to do with the world and the world's problems. So said the snobs who did not know themselves as snobs.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
53c2039
|
In real life, as we know, the failure to relax a particular tension can lead to madness.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
4310c06
|
And fiction gives us empathy: it puts us inside the minds of other people, gives us the gift of seeing the world through their eyes.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
70be467
|
Mr. Montag, you are looking at a coward. I saw the way things were going, a long time back. I said nothing. I'm one of the innocents who could have spoken up and out when no one would listen to theguilty,' but I did not speak and thus became guilty myself.
|
|
wrong
stand-up
society
protest
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
af1eecc
|
Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal.And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day, every day, sleeping its life away.
|
|
change
dystopia
realization
world-view
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
6cb309e
|
The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
3fdc50b
|
And on either side of the river was there a tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month; And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. Yes,
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
99a2517
|
War is a bad thing, but peace can be a living horror
|
|
war
living-horror
ray-bradbury
peace
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
7179a0e
|
Quietly she wished he might one day again spend as much time holding and touching her like a little harp as he did his incredible books.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
05c97a5
|
Mildred driving a hundred miles an hour across town, he shouting at her and she shouting back and both trying to hear what was said, but hearing only the scream of the car. "At least keep it down to the minimum!" he yelled. "What?" she cried. "Keep it down to fifty-five, the minimum" he shouted. "The what?" she shrieked. "Speed!" he shouted. And she pushed it up to one hundred and five miles and tore the breath from his mouth." --
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
f721371
|
I'm never going to own anything can hurt me.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
486e90c
|
My uncle says his grandfather remembered when children didn't kill each other. But that was a long time ago when they had things different. They believed in responsibility, my uncle says.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
ea41327
|
You laugh when I haven't been funny and you answer right off. You never stop to think what I've asked you.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
5228bc6
|
Was she conscious of her talent? Hardly. If asked about her cooking, Grandma would look down at her hands which some glorious instinct sent on journeys to be gloved in flour, or to plumb disencumbered turkeys, wrist-deep in search of their animal souls. Her gray eyes blinked from spectacles warped by forty years of oven blasts and blinded with strewing of pepper and sage, so she sometimes flung cornstarch over steaks, amazingly tender, succ..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
609545f
|
Que el mundo arda a traves de uno mismo.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
102275b
|
If they give you ruled paper, write the other way.' - Juan Ramon Jimenez
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
1ed01db
|
It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.
|
|
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
573aba8
|
And they left the mellow light of the dandelion wine and went upstairs to carry out the last few rituals of summer, for they felt that now the final day, the final night had come. As the day grew late they realized that for two or three nights now, porches had emptied early of their inhabitants. The air hard a different, drier smell and Grandma was talking of hot coffee instead of iced tea; the open, white-flutter-curtained windows were clo..
|
|
fall
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
ad31900
|
And Will? Why, he's the last peach, high on a summer tree. Some boys walk by and you cry, seeing them. They feel good, they look good, they are good. Oh, they're not above peeing off a bridge, or stealing an occasional dime-store pencil sharpener; it's not that. It's just, you know, seeing them pass, that's how they'll be all their life; they'll get hit, hurt, cut, bruised, and always wonder why, why does it happen? how can it happen to the..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
0f03847
|
Three in the morning, thought Charles Halloway, seated on the edge of his bed. Why did the train come at that hour? For, he thought, it's a special hour. Women never wake then, do they?
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
6a89780
|
Faber sniffed the book. "Do you know that books smell like nutmeg or some spice from a foreign land? I loved to smell them when I was a boy."
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
167fec8
|
It is the privilege of old people to seem to know everything. But it's an act and a mask, like every other act and mask. Between ourselves, we old ones wink at each other and smile, saying, 'How do you like my mask, my act, my certainty? Isn't life a play? Don't I play it well?
|
|
old-age
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
2f4b1ba
|
No," moaned Tom in despair. "School. School straight on ahead! Why, why do dime stores show things like that in windows before summer's even over! Ruin half the vacation!"
|
|
summer
school
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
8c9936e
|
I'm afraid of children my own age. They kill each other. Did it always use to be that way? My uncle says no. Six of my friends have been shot in the last year alone.
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
c6450a4
|
They banged doors, they shouted Trick or Treat and their brown paper bags began to fill with incredible sweets. They galloped with their teeth glued shut with pink gum. They ran with red wax lips bedazzling their faces. But all the people who met them at doors looked like candy factory duplicates of their own mothers and fathers. It was like never leaving home. Too much kindness flashed from every window and every portal. What they wanted w..
|
|
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
1c38313
|
You must remember, burn them or they'll burn you...
|
|
fahrenheit-451
ray-bradbury
censorship-of-books
burn
dystopian
fire
censorship
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
ed42e56
|
The other six or seven drafts are going to be pure torture. So why not enjoy the first draft, in the hope that your joy will seek and find others in the world who, reading your story, will catch fire, too?
|
|
writing
gusto
zest
ray-bradbury
writers
|
Ray Bradbury |
|
dc07650
|
Somewhere on the Earth tonight, my Tylla, there is a Man with a Lever, which, when he pulls it, Will Save The World. The man is now unemployed. His switch gathers dust. He himself plays pinochle.
|
|
end-of-the-world
|
Ray Bradbury |