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.
Ray BradburyIf you have moved over vast territories and dared to love silly things, you will have learned even from the most primitive items collected and put aside in your life.
Ray BradburyThe most improbable tales can be made believable, if your reader, through his sense, feels certain that he stands at the middle of events.
Ray BradburyA computer does not smell ... if a book is new, it smells great. If a book is old, it smells even betterโฆ And it stays with you forever. But the computer doesnโt do that for you. Iโm sorry.
Ray BradburyHe had never liked October. Ever since he had first lay in the autumn leaves before his grandmother's house many years ago and heard the wind and saw the empty trees. It had made him cry, without a reason. And a little of that sadness returned each year to him. It always went away with spring. But, it was a little different tonight. There was a feeling of autumn coming to last a million years. There would be no spring. ("The October Game")
Ray Bradbury