Ray Bradbury
Ray Bradbury
Ray Douglas Bradburywas an American fantasy, science fiction, horror and mystery fiction author...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 August 1920
CityLos Angeles, IL
CountryUnited States of America
art philosophy book
I ate them like salad, books were my sandwich for lunch, my tiffin and dinner and midnight munch. I tore out the pages, ate them with salt, doused them with relish, gnawed on the bindings, turned the chapters with my tongue! Books by the dozen, the score and the billion. I carried so many home I was hunchbacked for years. Philosophy, art history, politics, social science, the poem, the essay, the grandiose play, you name 'em, I ate 'em.
beautiful writing thinking
The only good writing is intuitive writing. It would be a big bore if you knew where it was going. It has to be exciting, instantaneous and it has to be a surprise. Then it all comes blurting out and it’s beautiful. I’ve had a sign by my typewriter for 25 years now which reads, ‘DON’T THINK!’
needs shapes nests
Oh, what strange wonderful clocks women are. They nest in Time. They make the flesh that holds fast and binds eternity. They live inside the gift, know power, accept, and need not mention it. Why speak of time when you are Time, and shape the universal moments, as they pass, into warmth and action?
majority tyranny-of-the-majority terrible
The terrible tyranny of the majority.
writing years long
When I finished [writing it], I was crying. I knew at long last, after ten years of trying, I had written something good.
thinking watches looks
I’m ALIVE. 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.
people want
When you're older you want to learn from other people.
book library
What's the point of having a library full of books you've already read?
believe men emotional
I’ve often been accused of being too emotional and sentimental, but I believe in honest sentiment, and the need to purge ourselves at certain times, which is ancient. Men would live at least five or six more years and not have ulcers if they could cry better.
two expression hands
How talented was death. How many expressions and manipulations of hand, face, body, no two alike.
flower rain black
We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of on good rain and black loam.
boys unhappy want
Remember, Montag, we're the happiness boys. We stand against the small tide of those who want to make everyone unhappy with conflicting theory and thought.
girl wind better-off-dead
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
running book sunset
In sum, do not insult me with the beheadings, finger choppings or the lung-deflations you plan for my works. I need my head to shake or nod, my hand to wave or make into a fist, my lungs to shout or whisper with. I will not go gently onto a shelf, degutted, to become a non-book. All you umpires, back to the bleachers. Referees, hit the showers. It's my game. I pitch, I hit, I catch. I run the bases. At sunset I've won or lost. At sunrise, I'm out again, giving it the old try. And no one can help me. Not even you.