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Ray Bradbury Quotes - Page 28

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

I decided that was the greatest idea I had ever heard. I started writing every day. I never stopped.

I decided that was the greatest idea I had ever heard. I started writing every day. I never stopped.

Writing, Ideas, Heard

Halloween. Sly does it. Tiptoe catspaws. Slide and creep. But why? What for? How? Who? When! Where did it all begin? 'You don't know, do you?' asks Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud climbing out under the pile of leaves under the Halloween Tree. 'You don't really know!'

Halloween, Climbing, Tree

Ray Bradbury (2015). “The Halloween Tree”, p.2, Knopf Books for Young Readers

If Blake said that, said Father Brian, he never lived in Dublin.

Father, Humorous, Dublin

Ray Bradbury (2000). “Bradbury Stories”

I'll hold on to the world tight some day. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning.

World, Fingers

Ray Bradbury (2012). “Fahrenheit 451: A Novel”, p.155, Simon and Schuster

You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else. You're one of the few who put up with me. That's why I think it's so strange you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem right for you, somehow.

Moon, Night, Thinking

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.11, Hamilton Books

They crashed the front door and grabbed at a woman, though she was not running, she was not trying to escape. She was only standing, weaving from side to side, her eyes fixed upon a nothingness in the wall as if they had struck her a terrible blow upon the head. Her tongue was moving in her mouth, and her eyes seemed to be trying to remember something, and then they remembered and her tongue moved again: "Play the man, Master Ridley; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.

Running, Wall, Moving

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.17, Hamilton Books

I write all of my novels and stories, as you have seen, in a great surge of delightful passion. Only recently, glancing at the novel, I realized that Montag is named after a paper manufacturing company. And Faber, of course, is a maker of pencils! What a sly thing my subconscious was, to name them thus. And not tell me!

Passion, Writing, Names

Ray Bradbury (2011). “Fahrenheit 451: A Novel”, p.205, Simon and Schuster

That's the good part of dying; when you've nothing to lose, you run any risk you want.

Running, Risk, Dying

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

Like every beginner, I have 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.

Eye, Ideas, Beginners

Ray Bradbury (1988). “Dandelion Wine”, p.3, Dramatic Publishing

The merry-go-round was running, yes, but... It was running backward. The small calliope inside the carousel machinery rattle-snapped its nervous-stallion shivering drums, clashed its harvest-moon cymbals, toothed its castanets, and throatily choked and sobbed its reeds, whistles, and baroque flutes.

Running, Moon, Cymbals

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

The trouble with Jim was he looked at the world and could not look away. And when you never look away all your life, by the time you are thirteen you have done twenty years taking in the laundry of the world.

Years, Twenties, Looks

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

"That's sad," said Montag, quietly, "because all we put into it is hunting and finding and killing. What a shame if that's all it can ever know."

Hunting, Shame, Killing

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

Forget them. Burn all, burn everything. Fire is bright and fire is clean.

Fire, Forget, Clean

Ray Bradbury (1951). “Fahrenheit 451: A Novel”, Simon and Schuster

I don't have a computer. A computer's a typewriter. I already have a typewriter.

Typewriters, Computer

Night had come on like the closing of a great but gentle eye.

Eye, Night, Gentle

"R Is for Rocket". Book by Ray Bradbury, 1962.

So in sum, what are we? We are the creatures that know and know too much. That leaves us with such a burden again we have a choice, to laugh or cry. No other animal does either. We do, depending on the season and the need.

Animal, Laughing, Choices

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

Why all this insistence on the senses? Because in order to convince your reader that he is THERE, you must assault each of his senses, in turn, with color, sound, taste, and texture. If your reader feels the sun on his flesh, the wind fluttering his shirt sleeves, half your fight is won. The most improbable tales can be made believable, if your reader, through his senses, feels certain that he stands at the middle of events. He cannot refuse, then, to participate. The logic of events always gives way to the logic of the senses.

Fighting, Order, Color

I think the only way we can grow and get on in this world is to accept the fact we're not perfect and live accordingly.

Thinking, Perfect, World

Ray Bradbury (2012). “The Illustrated Man”, p.163, Simon and Schuster

But remember that the Captain belongs to the most dangerous enemy to truth and freedom, the solid unmoving cattle of the majority

Enemy, Majority, Captains

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.53, Hamilton Books

Out of the nursery into the college and back into the nursery; there’s your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.

Past, College, Intellectual

Ray Bradbury (2012). “Fahrenheit 451: A Novel”, p.52, Simon and Schuster

How long has it been since you wrote a story where your real love or your real hatred somehow got onto the paper? When was the last time you dared release a cherished prejudice so it slammed the page like a lightning bolt?

Real, Long, Hatred

Ray Bradbury (2015). “Zen in the Art of Writing”, p.12, HarperCollins UK

You're either in love with what you do, or you're not in love.

You're peculiar, you're aggravating, yet you're easy to forgive. You say you're seventeen?..How odd. How strange. And my wife thirty and yet you seem so much older at times. I can't get over it.

Wife, Forgiving, Peculiar

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.10, Hamilton Books

The train skimmed on softly, slithering, black pennants fluttering, black confetti lost on its own sick-sweet candy wind, down the hill, with the two boys pursuing, the air was so cold they ate ice cream with each breath.

Sweet, Boys, Ice Cream

Ray Bradbury (2017). “Something Wicked This Way Comes: A Novel”, p.48, Simon and Schuster

Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave. They just might stop us from making the same damm insane mistakes!

Mistake, Book, Insane

Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.35, Hamilton Books

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