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Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

"It was a pleasure to burn."

Gardening is the handiest excuse for being a philosopher. Nobody guesses, nobody accuses, nobody knows, but there you are, Plato in the peonies, Socrates force-growing his own hemlock. A man toting a sack of blood manure across his lawn is kin to Atlas letting the world spin easy on his shoulder.

Dandelion Wine, Ray Bradbury

The years go by. The time flies. Every single second is a moment in time that passes. And it seems like nothing - but when you’re looking back... well, it amounts to everything.

-- Ray Bradbury

It's gone away, it's gone back to the Deeps. It's learned you cant love anything too much in this world.

ray bradbury, the fog horn

“So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalize us amidst it all.”

— Ray Bradbury, “Zen in the Art of Writing”

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. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.

— Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (William Morrow Paperbacks; April 23, 2013) (via Cultural Offering)

“I think the only way we can grow and get on in this world is to accept the fact we’re not perfect and live accordingly.”

— Ray Bradbury, The Illustrated Man

It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason.

Ray Bradbury