Some things are too big to be seen; some emotions are too huge to be felt.
Ray Bradbury was not ahead of his time. He was perfectly of his time, and more than that: he created his time and left his mark on the time that followed.
The real problem with stories – if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death.
Perhaps this is the ultimate freedom, eh, Dreamlord? The freedom to leave.
I could be blindfolded and dropped into the deepest ocean and I would know where to find you. I could be buried a hundred miles underground and I would know where you are.
Do you know why I stopped being Delight, my brother? I do. There are things not in your book. There are paths outside this garden.
Any way, death is so final, isn’t it? “Is it?” asked Richard. “Sometimes,” said the marquis de Carabas. And they went down.
There was a hysteria in there, certainly, but there was also the exhaustion of someone who had managed, somehow, to believe several dozen impossible things in the last twenty-four hours, without ever getting a proper breakfast.
For the record, I don’t expect you to believe any of this. Not really. I’m a liar by trade, after all; albeit, I like to think, an honest liar.
Something told him that something was coming to an end. Not the world, exactly. Just the summer. There would be other summers, but there would never be one like this. Ever again.
Anyone who calls you “little lady” has already excluded you from the set of people worth listening to.
It is sometimes a mistake to climb. It is always a mistake to never make the attempt.
What a refreshing mind you have, young man. There really is nothing quite like total ignorance, is there?
I remember making that vow, the one not to forget. Not to remember what happened, but to remember who I was and how I felt.
When things go wrong, this is what you should do. Make good art.
Make glorious and fantastic mistakes.
This is not a place, after all. It is BETWEEN places. This is NOWHERE. A brief thought: I could stay here, abandon my quest, hang forever in the void, safe and cold and alone.
She found herself to be quite worried that something would jump out at her, so she began to whistle. She thought it might make it harder for things to jump out at her, if she was whistling.
Can’t make an omelette without killing a few people.
I already killed you once today, what does it take to teach some people?