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"...passing swiftly on toward further darknesses, but moving also toward a new sun."
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"Let go of what was and embrace what to be."
"How strange that we can go from friends to inseparable to hateful then casual all in one lifetime."
"You stop revisiting memories when you outgrow the people you made them with."
"Windows 7 is on its way to being an obsolete product. Keeping it on your computer long term will leave you with an obsolete computer. Windows 10 has numerous problems, but lack of support soon is not one of them."
"They had entered the thorny wilderness, and the golden gates of their childhood had for ever closed behind them."
"Our being is continually undergoing and entering upon changes. ... We must strictly speaking at every moment give each other up and let each other go and not hold each other back."
"...your tranquil yes to the changing over into the formless void of the unlimited."
"There's a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go."
"Someday you're gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing..."
"Sometimes you don't know when you're taking the first step through a door until you're already inside."
Explore more quotes by Ray Bradbury
"I often wonder if God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down?"
"Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy."
"The huge round lunar clock was a gristmill. Shake down all the grains of Time-the big grains of centuries, and the small grains of years, and the tiny grains of hours and minutes-and the clock pulverized them, slid Time silently out in all directions in a fine pollen, carried by cold winds to blanket the town like dust, everywhere. Spores from that clock lodged in your flesh to wrinkle it, to grow bones to monstrous size, to burst feet from shoes like turnips. Oh, how that great machine dispensed Time in blowing weathers."
"Now let's take up the minorities in our civilisation, shall we? Bigger the population, the more minorities. Don't step on the toes of the dog-lovers, the cat-lovers, doctors, lawyers, merchants, chiefs, Mormons, Baptists, Unitarians, second-generation Chinese, Swedes, Italians, Germans, Texans, Brooklynites, Irishmen, people from Oregon or Mexico. The people in this book, this play, this TV serial are not meant to represent any actual painters, cartographers, mechanics anywhere. The bigger your market, Montag, the less you handle controversy, remember that!"
"How men envy and often hate these warm clocks, these wives, who know they will live forever. So what do we do? We men turn terribly mean, because we can't hold to the world or ourselves or anything. We are blind to continuity, all breaks down, falls, melts, stops, rots, or runs away. So, since we cannot shape Time, where does that leave men? Sleepless. Staring."
"He glanced back at the wall. How like a mirror, too, her face. Impossible; for how many people did you know who reflected your own light to you? People were more often--he searched for a simile, found one in his work--torches, blazing away until they whiffed out. How rarely did other people's faces take of you and throw back to you your own expression, your own innermost trembling thought?"
"Death loves death, not life. Dying people love to know that others die with them; it is a comfort to learn you are not alone in the kiln, in the grave."
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