Quotes from Ray Bradbury

We're all fools," said Clemens, "all the time. It's just we're a different kind each day. We think, I'm not a fool today. I've learned my lesson. I was a fool yesterday but not this morning. Then tomorrow we find out that, yes, we were a fool today too. 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.

Even now he could feel the start of the long journey, the leave taking, the going away from the self he had been.

Look at the world out there, my God, my God, look at it out there, outside me, out there beyond my face and the only way to really touch it is to put it where it's finally me, where it's in the blood, where it pumps around a thousand times ten thousand a day.

It doesn't like or dislike. It just functions. It's like a lesson in ballistics. It has a trajectory we decide for it. It follows through. It targets itself, homes itself, and cuts off. It's only copper wire, storage batteries, and electricity.

He, on the other hand, found great beauty behind her face, great kindness and understanding.

All floated upon an evening carousel, with fitful drifts of music wafting up here and there, and voices calling and murmuring from houses that were whitely haunted by television.

Tas, kas jums vajadz?gs, nav gr?mat?s vien! Mekl?jiet to ar? daudz kur citur — vec?s gramofona plat?s, vec?s film?s un vecos draugos, mekl?jiet dab? un paši sev?. Gr?matas ir tikai viena no tvertn?m, kur glab?jam to, ko baid?mies aizmirst. Gr?mat?m paš?m nav ma?iska sp?ka. Šis sp?ks ir tam, kas gr?mat?s pateikts, tam, kas Visuma gabali?us m?su priekš? sadiedz vienot? vesel?.

Without knowing I had been Tut's child all the while, writing the Red World's hieroglyphics, thinking I thrived futures even in dust-rinsed pasts.

I'm not surprised at anything any more, said the old man. I'm just looking. I'm just experiencing. If you can't take Mars for what she is, you might as well go back to Earth.

Don't judge a book by its cover, someone said.

Los buenos escritores tocan a menudo la vida. Los mediocres la rozan rápidamente. Los malos la violan y la abandonan a las moscas.

with him holding her she felt so beautiful she knew their marriage had slipped her from her ugliness, like a bright sword from its case.

Maybe you took two pills and forgot and took two more, and forgot again and took two more, and were so dopy you kept right on until you had thirty or forty of them in you.

Well, late this morning, walking to the office, I heard someone laugh out loud. It shocked me, so I froze in the middle of the street. It was me, laughing!

the people who ate shadows for breakfast and steam for lunch and vapors for dinner

First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys. Not that all months aren't rare. But there be bad and good, as the pirates say. Take September, a bad month: school begins. Consider August, a good month: school hasn't begun yet. July, well, July's really fine: there's no chance in the world for school. June, no doubting it, June's best of all, for the school doors spring wide and September's a billion years away.

Once he saw her shaking a walnut tree, he saw her sitting on the lawn knitting a blue sweater, three or four times he found a bouquet of late flowers on his porch, or a handful of chestnuts in a little sack, or some autumn leaves neatly pinned to a sheet of white paper and thumb-tacked to his door.

When life is over it is like a flicker of bright film, an instant on the screen, all of its prejudices and passions condensed and illumined for an instant on space, and before you could cry out, 'There was a happy day, there a bad one, there an evil face, there a good one,' the film burned to a cinder, the screen went dark.

Death makes everything else sad. But death itself only scares. If there wasn't death, all other things wouldn't get tainted.

And when the war's over, some day, 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.

There'd be time for that later; time to throw condensed-milk cans in the proud Martian canals; time for copies of the New York Times to blow and caper and rustle across the lone gray Martian sea bottoms; time for banana peels and picnic papers in the fluted, delicate ruins of the old Martian valley towns. Plenty of time for that.

You can't ever have my books," she said.

Thinking about it, noticing it, is new. You do things and don't watch. Then all of a sudden you look and see what you're doing and it's the first time, really.

Ä°nsanl???n en harikulade ÅŸeyi bu; hiçbir zaman, her ÅŸeyi yeniden yapmas?n? engelleyecek kadar cesaretsizliÄŸe veya iÄŸrentiye kap?lmamas?, çünkü yapt??? iÅŸin ne kadar önemli ve yapmaya deÄŸer olduÄŸunu bilir.