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
writing honest faster
The faster you blurt, the more swiftly you write, the more honest you are.
real fake stories
All of the good, weird stories I’ve written are based on things I’ve dredged out of my subconscious. That’s the real stuff. Everything else is fake.
silence down-and speak
To everything there is a season. Yes. A time to break down, and a time to build up. Yes. A time to keep silence and a time to speak. Yes.
fear order suffering
In order for a thing to be horrible it has to suffer a change you can recognize.
book dust pages
For if we're destroyed, the knowledge is dead...We're nothing more than dust jackets for books...so many pages to a person...
fahrenheit-451-book delinquents
Those who don't build must burn.
night mirrors rocks
The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke.
fun writing joy
Writing is not a serious business. It’s a joy and a celebration. You should be having fun with it.
next-day phones people
Don’t let people interfere with you. Boot ’em out, turn off the phone, hide away, get it done. If you carry a short story over to the next day you may overnight intellectualize something about it and try to make it too fancy, try to please someone.
religious wall passion
Too many of us have lost the passion and emotion of the remarkable things we-ve done in space. Let us not tear up the future, but rather again heed the creative metaphors that render space travel a religious experience. When the blast of a rocket launch slams you against the wall and all the rust is shaken off your body, you will hear the great shout of the universe and the joyful crying of people who have been changed by what they-ve seen.
war wind odor
When the wind is right, a faint odor of kerosene is exhaled from Senator McCarthy.
god mother father
"Oh, ancient god, whatever your name," whispered Ahmed. "Help this lost son of a good father, this evil boy who meant no harm but slept in school, ran errands slowly, did not pray from his heart, ignored his mother, and did not hold his family in great esteem. For all this I know I must suffer. But here in the midst of silence, at the desert's heart, where even the wind knows not my name? Must I die so young? Am I to be forgotten without having been?"
light people impossible
Impossible; for how many people did you know who refracted your own light to you?
years missing criticism
The critics are generally wrong, or they're fifteen, twenty years late. It's a great shame. They miss out on a lot.