The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her.
The feeding of the Muse then, which we have spent most of our time on here, seem to me to be the continual running after loves, the checking of these loves against one's present and future needs, the...
The bigger your market, Montag, the less you handle controversy, remember that! All
The Martians were there—in the canal—reflected in the water.... The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the rippling water....
Teachers say if you write a story you must never name what you’re trying to write. Just do it. When it’s over you’ll know what you’ve done.
Some day our cities would open up and let the green and the land and the wilderness in more, to remind people that we’re allotted a little space on earth and that we survive in that wilderness that ca...
So, said Moundshroud. If we fly fast, maybe we can catch Pipkin. Grab his sweet Halloween corn-candy soul. Bring him back, pop him in bed, toast him warm, save his breath. What say, lads? Search and s...
So the rest of the summer you could see the two little girls and Tom like wrens on a wire, on Mrs. Bentley’s front porch, waiting. And when the silvery chimes of the icicle man were heard, the front d...
So in sum, what are we? We are the creatures that know and know too much. That leaves us with such a burden again we have a choice, to laugh or cry. No other animal does either. We do, depending on th...
She was too wonderful a character to be allowed to die and I realize now that I should have allowed her to appear at the end of my book. [Ray writes about the character Clarisse]
She was beginning to shriek now, sitting there like a wax doll melting in its own heat.
She didn't want to know how a thing was done, but why. That can be embarrassing.
Right now I've got an awful feeling I want to smash and kill things.
Really knowing is good. Not knowing, or refusing to know, is bad, or amoral, at least. You can’t act if you don’t know.
Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadru...
Once the bomb release was yanked, it was finished. Now, a full three seconds, all of the time in history, before the bombs struck, the enemy ships themselves were gone half around the visible world, l...
Old men only lie in wait for people to ask them to talk. Then they rattle on like a rusty elevator wheezing up a shaft.
Oiled, with tube bones cut from bronze and sunk in gelatin, the robots lay. In coffins for the not dead and not alive, in planked boxes, the metronomes waited to be set in motion. There was a smell of...
Off hours, yes. But time to think? If you’re not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can’t think of anything else but the danger, then you’re playing some game or sitting in some room...
O kuo iš tikrųjų kvepia Laikas? Dulkėmis, laikrodžiais, žmonėmis.