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Ray Bradbury

"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."

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"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."

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Amber Hurdle

"Church leaders may get disappointed in ministry if they do not know God's time."

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Amber Hurdle

"Don't worry. All of your problems will be solved in the end."

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Amber Hurdle

"Don't be in a hurry in life. The sacred-time determines the due events."

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Amber Hurdle

"Be patient and endure the times. Your glorious days shall come to pass."

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Amber Hurdle

"Nurture a tree today, and it will provide you fruit tomorrow."

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Amber Hurdle

"Sometimes it is best to stand back from conflict and allow other elements in someone's life to do the hard work for you."

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Amber Hurdle

"It is not a vice or a show of weakness when you live by the principle of delay gratification."

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Amber Hurdle

"Walking to success is better than sprinting to failure."

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Amber Hurdle

"If a train is two minutes late in leaving, one will become impatient, 'when will the train leave, when will it leave?' This world is not worth getting impatient restless about."

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Amber Hurdle

"Don't wait for the last hour of life, to do the things you wish to do."

Explore more quotes by Ray Bradbury

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Ray Bradbury
"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."
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Ray Bradbury
"And they left the mellow light of the dandelion wine and went upstairs to carry out the last few rituals of summer, for they felt that now the final day, the final night had come. As the day grew late they realized that for two or three nights now, porches had emptied early of their inhabitants. The air hard a different, drier smell and Grandma was talking of hot coffee instead of iced tea; the open, white-flutter-curtained windows were closing in the great bays; cold cuts were giving way to steamed beef. The mosquitos were gone from the porch, and surely when they abandoned the conflict the war with Time was really done, there was nothing for it but that humans also forsake the battleground."
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Ray Bradbury
"Memory is an illusion, nothing more. It is a fire that needs constant tending."
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Ray Bradbury
"It was summer and moonlight and we had lemonade to drink, and we held the cold glasses in our hands, and Dad read the stereo-newspapers inserted into the special hat you put on your head and which turned the microscopic page in front of the magnifying lens if you blinked three times in succession."
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Ray Bradbury
"The ability to "fantasize" is the ability to survive. It's wonderful to speak about this subject because there have been so many wrong-headed people dealing with it.... The so-called realists are trying to drive us insane, and I refuse to be driven insane.... We survive by fantasizing. Take that away from us and the whole damned human race goes down the drain."
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Ray Bradbury
"Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal.And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day, every day, sleeping its life away."
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Ray Bradbury
"She didn't watch the dead, ancient bone-chess cities slide under, or the old canals filled with emptiness and dreams. Past dry rivers and dry lakes they flew, like a shadow of the moon, like a torch burning."
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Ray Bradbury
"Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered...sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks..."
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Ray Bradbury
"It was one of those things they keep in a jar in the tent of a sideshow on the outskirts of a little, drowsy town. One of those pale things drifting in alcohol plasma, forever dreaming and circling, with its peeled, dead eyes staring out at you and never seeing you. It went with the noiselessness of late night, and only the crickets chirping, the frogs sobbing off in the moist swampland. One of those things in a big jar that makes your stomach jump as it does when you see a preserved arm in a laboratory vat."
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Ray Bradbury
"God bless the lawn mower, he thought. Who was the fool who made January first New Year's Day? No, they should set a man to watch the grasses across a million Illinois, Ohio, and Iowa lawns, and on that morning when it was long enough for cutting, instead of ratchets and horns and yelling, there should be a great swelling symphony of lawn mowers reaping fresh grass upon the prairie lands. Instead of confetti and serpentine, people should throw grass spray at each other on the one day each year that really represents Beginning!"
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