Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Thank you for leaving behind what you did.
—Daisy
‘Fahrenheit 451’ Author Ray Bradbury Dies At 91
(via npr)
It is because of this man that I know there will always be books, that summer tastes like dandelion wine, and that you should never trust a carnival.
(via on-tempo-off-beat)
It’s a great place to grow up [Los Angeles] as a creator because there’s
no intellectual hierarchy. I remember going to a party in New York about
35 years ago. They all called me Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon. I said,
“You, ma’am, your name and phone number? And you, sir, your phone number?
And you, sir?” And they said, “Why are you taking our phone numbers?” I
said, “Because the night we land on the moon, you’re going to get called.”
I was in London when we did. I called three of them, and when they
answered I said, “Stupid son of a bitch,” and hung up.
Ray Bradbury, quoted in Newsweek (November 1998) (via Jesse Lanser)
oh perfect creature
(via liquidiousfleshbag)
Stuff your eyes with wonder,” he said, “live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. 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. To hell with that,” he said, “shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.
Ray Bradbury (via danforth)
