He balanced in space with the book in his sweating cold fingers.
But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. It can't last.
A great thunderstorm of sound gushed from the walls. Music bombarded him at such an immense volume that his bones were almost shaken from their tendons; he felt his jaw vibrate, his eyes wobble in his...
The girl who had known the weather and never been burnt by fireflies, the girl who had known what dandelions meant rubbed off on your chin. Then, she would be gone.
Throughout his life, Bradbury liked to recount the story of meeting a carnival magician, Mr. Electrico, in 1932. At the end of his performance Electrico reached out to the twelve-year-old Bradbury, to...
The other six or seven drafts are going to be pure torture. So why not enjoy the first draft, in the hope that your joy will seek and find others in the world who, reading your story, will catch fire,...
The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.
How must it have felt, Pikes, the night they seized your films, like entrails yanked from the camera, out of your guts, clutching them in coils and wads to stuff them up a stove to burn away! Did it f...
Her cheeks glowed with pink charcoals.
Beer's intellectual. What a shame so many idiots drink it.-
And the men with the cigarettes in their straight-lined mouths, the men with the eyes of puff adders, took up their load of machine and tube, their case of liquid melancholy and the slow dark sludge o...
We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone MADE equal. Each man man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to make...
The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats.Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness to...
Sunsets are loved because they vanish.Flowers are loved because they go.The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they must depart.These are not the sole reasons, but at...
My men are my references. They're waiting outside for the books. They're dangerous.Men like that always are.
It shouldn't work. It shouldn't be magic. You shouldn't weep happy and then sad and then happy again. But you do. And I do. And we all do.
That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That cou...
He knew what the wind was doing to them, where it was taking them, to all the secret places that were never so secret again in life.
But no man's a hero to himself.
We lost our faith and went around wondering what life was for. If art was no more than a frustrated out-flinging of desire, if religion was no more than self-delusion, what good was life? Faith had al...