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Ray Bradbury Quotes - Page 27

All Quotes Acting Adventure Age Art Autumn Balance Bones Censorship Character Children College Community Consciousness Country Creativity Culture Darkness Death Dying Earth Effort Envy Evil Failing Falling In Love Fear Fighting Film Fun Giving Good Morning Halloween Hate Heart Hell High School Home House Hurt Ignorance Imagination Inspirational Internet Joy Laughter Learning Legacy Letting Go Life Literature Love Lying Madness Magic Mankind Metaphor Moon Morning Motivational Muse Passion Past Philosophy Pleasure Quality Rain Reading Reality Rejection Risk Running Sadness School Science Science Fiction Seven Shame Silence Skins Sleep Son Soul Spring Students Summer Teaching This Day Today Travel Universe Waiting Wall War Water Wife Wine Wit Worry Writing

The sun rose yellow as a lemon.The sky was round and blue.The birds looped clear water songs in the air.Will and Jim leaned from their windows.Nothing had changed.Except the look in Jim's eyes.Last night. . . said Will.

The sun rose yellow as a lemon.The sky was round and blue.The birds looped clear water songs in the air.Will and Jim leaned from their windows.Nothing had changed.Except the look in Jim's eyes.Last night. . . said Will. Did or didn't it happen?

Song, Eye, Night

Ray Bradbury (1962). “Something wicked this way comes: a novel”, Bantam

I don't tell anyone how to write and no one tells me.

Writing

"Ray Bradbury, The Art of Fiction No. 203". Interview with Sam Weller, www.theparisreview.org. Spring 2010.

And I saw then and there you take a man half-bad and a women half-bad and put their two good halves together and you got one human all good to share between.

Men, Two, Together

Ray Bradbury (1962). “Something wicked this way comes”, Alfred a Knopf Inc

I don't believe in colleges and universities.

Believe, College, Self Education

"A Literary Legend Fights for a Local Library" by Jennifer Steinhauer, www.nytimes.com. June 19, 2009.

You'll be found, your nickels, dimes and Indian-heads fused by electroplating. Abe Lincolns melted into Miss Columbias, eagles plucked raw on the backs of quarters, all run to quicksilver in your jeans. More! Any boy hit by lightning, lift his lid and there on his eyeball, pretty as the Lord's Prayer on a pin, find the last scene the boy ever saw! A box-Brownie photo, by God, of that fire climbing down the sky to blow you like a penny whistle, suck your soul back up along the bright stair!

Running, Prayer, Blow

Ray Bradbury (2013). “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, p.10, Harper Collins

If you can't read and write you can't think. Your thoughts are dispersed if you don't know how to read and write. You've got to be able to look at your thoughts on paper and discover what a fool you were.

Writing, Thinking, Looks

"Ray Bradbury Is on Fire!". Interview with James Hibberd, www.salon.com. August 29, 2001.

I used to take my short stories to girls' homes and read them to them. Can you imagine the reaction reading a short story to a girl instead of pawing her?

Girl, Reading, Home

"From the archive: Ray Bradbury on life, love and Buck Rogers". Interview with John Ezard, www.theguardian.com. June 7, 2012.

...We're allotted a little space on earth and that we survive in that wilderness that can take back what it has given, as easily as blowing its breath on us or sending the sea to tell us we are not so big. When we forget how close the wilderness is in the night, my grandpa said, someday it will come in and get us, for we will have forgotten how terrible and real it can be.

Real, Night, Sea

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.76, Hamilton Books

I was never young. Whoever I was then is dead. That's more of your quills. I don't want a hide full, thanks. I have always figured that you die each day and and each day is a is a box, you see, all numbered and neat; but never go back and lift the lids, because you have died a couple thousand times in your life, and that's a lot of corpses, each dead a different way, each with a worse expression. Each of those days is a different you, somebody you don't know or understand or want to understand.

Couple, Expression, Different

Most of my short stories are fantasy.

Stories, Fantasy, Short Story

From this outer edge of his life, looking back, there was only one remorse, and that was only that he wished to go on living. Did all dying people feel this way, as if they had never lived? Did life seem that short, indeed, over and done before you took a breath? Did it seem this abrupt and impossible to everyone, or only to himself, here, now, with a few hours left to him for thought and deliberation?

People, Dying, Done

Ray Bradbury (2012). “The Illustrated Man”, p.33, Simon and Schuster

Time was a film run backward. Suns fled and ten million moons fled after them.

Running, Moon, Sun

Ray Bradbury (1953). “The golden apples of the sun”

Why then you're as mad as me. No, madder. For I distrust 'reality' and its moron mother, the universe, while you fasten your innocence to fallible devices which pretend at happy endings.

Mother, Reality, Mad

The father hesitated only a moment. He felt the vague pain in his chest. If I run, he thought, what will happen? Is Death important? No. Everything that happens before Death is what counts. And we've done fine tonight. Even Death can't spoil it.

Death, Running, Pain

Ray Bradbury (1962). “Something wicked this way comes: a novel”, Bantam

We all are rich and ignore the buried fact of accumulated wisdom.

Writing, Facts, Rich

Most of us can't rush around, talk to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for... are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.

Book, Ninety Nine, Average

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.41, Hamilton Books

He knew what the wind was doing to them, where it was taking them, to all the secret places that were never so secret again in life.

Secret Places, Wind, Secret

Ray Bradbury (2013). “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, p.17, Harper Collins

And some day well remember so much that well build the biggest goddam steamshovel in history and dig the biggest grave of all time and shove war in and cover it up.

War, Remember, Someday

"Fahrenheit 451".

Really knowing is good. Not knowing, or refusing to know, is bad, or amoral, at least. You can't act if you don't know. Acting without knowing takes you right off the cliff.

Knowing, Acting, Cliffs

Ray Bradbury (1962). “Something wicked this way comes: a novel”, Bantam

You're insane!" "I won't argue that point.

Insane, Arguing

Ray Bradbury (2000). “Bradbury Stories”

What are you up to now?" "I'm sill crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.

Crazy, Rain, Feel Good

Ray Bradbury (2012). “Fahrenheit 451: A Novel”, p.19, Simon and Schuster

I was doing a terrible thing in using the very books you clung to, to rebut you on every hand, on every point! What traitors books can be! You think they're backing you up, and then they turn on you. Others can use them, too, and there you are, lost in the middle of the moor, in a great welter of nouns and verbs and adjectives.

Book, Thinking, Hands

"Fahrenheit 451". Book by Ray Bradbury, 1953.

It's poor judgment', said Grandpa 'to call anything by a name. We don't know what a hobgoblin or a vampire or a troll is. Could be lots of things. You can't heave them into categories with labels and say they'll act one way or another. That'd be silly. They're people. People who do things. Yes, that's the way to put it. People who *do* things.

Silly, Names, People

Ray Bradbury (1980). “The Stories of Ray Bradbury”, Alfred a Knopf Incorporated

The Martians were there - in the canal - reflected in the water.... The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the rippling water.

Long, Water, Silent

Ray Bradbury (2012). “The Martian Chronicles”, p.241, Simon and Schuster

What's the point of having a library full of books you've already read?

Book, Library

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