top of page
.png){kind=small}
"Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."
Standard
Customized
Exlpore more Creativity quotes
"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say."
"Never to rush something I was creating, but instead let it come into being as if it had a soul of it's own."
"A poet is someone who never forgets they were born naked."
"On the whole, stories don't write themselves."
"Be an artist, in whatever little faculty possible.For the Earth, without 'Art' is just 'Eh"
"What doesn't kill me provides writing material."
"Let's pursue the visage of imagination."
"Imagination is the creative force that through necessity yields solutions to resolve the issues that face us."
"If you always move in certainty, your writing will be flat - creativity is a rugged terrain..."
"The Revolution introduced me to art, and in turn, art introduced me to the Revolution!"
Explore more quotes by Ray Bradbury
"I spent three days a week for 10 years educating myself in the public library, and it's better than college. People should educate themselves - you can get a complete education for no money. At the end of 10 years, I had read every book in the library and I'd written a thousand stories."
"If you dream the proper dreams, and share the myths with people, they will want to grow up to be like you."
"Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so 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."
"And what, you ask, does writing teach us? First and foremost, it reminds us that we are alive and that it is a gift and a privilege, not a right."
"Raw, gentle, and easy, it mizzled out of the high air, a special elixir, tasting of spells and stars and air, carrying a peppery dust in it, and moving like a rare light sherry on his tongue. Rain."
"Four days, eight days, twelve days passed, and he was invited to teas, to suppers, to lunches. They sat talking through the long green afternoons - they talked of art, of literature, of life, of society and politics. They ate ice creams and squabs and drank good wines."
"The river was very real; it held him comfortably and gave him the time at last, the leisure, to consider this month, this year, and a lifetime of years."
bottom of page