Ray Bradbury Quotes
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We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?
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We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.
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You let the story cool off and then, instead of rewriting it, you relive it.
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His flesh took paleness from his bones.
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Sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads.
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Everything of mine is permeated with my love of ideas-both big and small. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it grabs me and holds me, facinates me. And then I'll run out and something about it... I write for fun.
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The first stories I wrote when I was 12 were about Mars and landing on Mars.
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For about 150 days a year in Venice, the sun doesn't show through the mist until noon.
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He raged for hours. And the skeleton, ever the frail and solelmn philosopher, hung quietly inside, saying not a word, suspended like a delicate insect within a chrysalis, waiting and waiting.
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Fame and money are gifts given to us only after we have gifted the world with our best, our lonely, our individual truths.
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Love is easy, and I love writing. You can't resist love. You get an idea, someone says something, and you're in love.
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Your mind's always juggling, isn't it?-mirrors, torches, plates.
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Far away, in the meadow, shadows flickered in the Mirror's Maze, as if parts of someone's life, yet unborn, were trapped there, waiting to be lived.
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What should I do?" "Throw up in your typewriter every morning." "Yeah." "Clean up every noon.
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I believe in having fun first, and along the way, if you teach people, if you influence people, well and good.
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If you did not write every day, the poisons would accumulate and you would begin to die, or act crazy or both-you must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
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My tunes and numbers are here. They have filled my years, the years when I refused to die. And in order to do that I wrote, I wrote, I wrote, at noon or 3:00 A.M. So as not to be dead.
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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.
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And what, you ask, does writing teach us? First and foremost, it reminds us that we are alive and that it is a gift and a privilege, not a right.
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You ask Why to a lot of things and you wind up very unhappy indeed, if you keep at it. The poor girl's better off dead
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If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn.
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Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.
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Venice was and is full of lost places where people put up for sale the last worn bits of their souls, hoping no one will buy.
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Savory...that's a swell word. And Basil and Betel. Capsicum. Curry. All great. But Relish, now, Relish with a capital R. No argument, that' the best.