Ray Bradbury Quotes

Collecting facts is important. Knowledge is important. But if you don't have an imagination to use the knowledge, civilization is nowhere.

But no man's a hero to himself.

I often wonder if God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled...

But souls can't be sold. They can only be lost and never found again.

I often wonder if God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down?

And a lot of it will be wrong, but just enough of it will be right.

Atibórralos de datos no combustibles, lánzales encima tantos hechos que se sientan abrumados, pero totalmente al día en cuanto a información. Entonces, tendrán la sensación de que piensan, tendrán la...

Digression is the soul of wit. Take the philosophic asides away from Dante, Milton or Hamlet's father's ghost and what stays is dry bones.

And there, row upon row, with the soft gleam of flowers opened at morning, with the light of this June sun glowing through a faint skin of dust, would stand the dandelion wine. Peer through it at the...

So few want to be rebels anymore. And out of those few, most, like myself, scare easily.

The river was mild and leisurely, going away from the people who ate shadows for breakfast and steam for lunch and vapors for supper.

He was still a kid inside. His body had grown, stretched, towered, tanned its skin, hardened its muscle, darkened its tawny shock of long hair, tightened its lines around jaw and eyes, thickened finge...

The Internet is a big distraction. It's distracting, it's meaningless; it's not real. It's in the air somewhere.

Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall.

But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn’t want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong kind of...

A Witch is born out of the true hungers of her time, she said. I was born out of New York. The things that are most wrong here summoned me. (Drink Entire: Against The Madness Of Crowds)

A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man's mind. Who knows who might be the target of a well-read man?

A red neon sign flickered dimly, buzzed like a dying insect, as they passed.

Rubens! All bosom and bum, big cumulus clouds of pink flesh, eh? You can feel the heart beating like a kettledrum in a ton of that stuff. Every woman a bed; throw yourself on them, sink from sight.

It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. Yo...