Quotes from Ray Bradbury

Why are some people all grasshopper fiddlings, scrapings, all antennae shivering, one big ganglion eternally knotting, slip-knotting, square-knotting themselves? They stoke a furnace all their lives, sweat their lips, shine their eyes and start it all in the crib. Caesar's lean and hungry friends. They eat the dark, who only stand and breathe.

Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.' 'So that's what I am.' 'There's some of it in all of us.

Montag sentiu que o livro eu escondera batia como um outro coração contra o seu peito.

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

Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves against.

Afraid of the word "politics" (which eventually became a synonym for Communism

Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because 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, streaming past in 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. Telling detail, fresh detail.

quando sono a Boston, New York non esiste. Quando sono a New York, Boston non esiste. [...] L'unica realtà, in questo momento, siamo tu, io e la nave spaziale. E l'unica certezza che ho sono io.

I woke this morning and said to myself, 'Charlie, this is swell, living. Keep doing it!

It's a long way back to sunset, a far way on to dawn, so you summon all the fool things of your life, the stupid lovely things done with people known so very well who are now so very dead...

The rain continued. He walked forward, tearing off his clothes as he went.

El amor volará si lo dejas, el amor volaraá si lo atas

How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you?

Este libro tiene poros, tiene rasgos. Este libro puede colocarse bajo el microscopio. A través de la lente, encontraría vida, huellas del pasado en infinita profusión. Cuantos más poros, más detalles provenientes de la vida misma haya en cada centímetro cuadrado de papel, más literaria será la obra.

They were hopelessly caught in a mire of pretty words, which they seemed to believe themselves.

I don't see myself as a philosopher. That's awfully boring.

If you are going to describe the history of animation, you'd look at the early Disney work, then 'Bugs Bunny,' 'Road Runner' and other Warner Brothers theatrical productions. But when you got to 'Rocky and Bullwinkle,' you'd see they were unique: They assumed you had a brain in your head.

Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered.

The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts.

When I was a young writer if you went to a party and told somebody you were a science-fiction writer you would be insulted. They would call you Flash Gordon all evening, or Buck Rogers.

What traitors books can be! You think they're backing you up, and 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.

Mysteries abound where most we seek for answers.

Death doesn't exist. It never did, it never will. But we've drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we've got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss, an end, a darkness. Nothing.

If you want to write ... You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads.