“I Think The Only Way We Can Grow And Get On In This World Is To Accept The Fact We’re Not Perfect

Ray Bradbury’s Personally Owned Art by James Bingham, Illustrating His Short Story ”The Fog Horn”

What did time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people.

There was a smell of Time in the air tonight. He smiled and turned the fancy in his mind. There was a thought. What did time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it, it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And, going further, what did Time look like? Time look like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theater, 100 billion faces falling like those New Year balloons, down and down into nothing. That was how Time smelled and looked and sounded. And tonight – Tomas shoved a hand into the wind outside the truck – tonight you could almost taste time.” ― Ray Bradbury, “The Martian Chronicles” (William Morrow Paperbacks; May 21, 2013) (via Alive on All Channels)

A Medicine for Melancholy, Ray Bradbury

The October Country - art by Joseph Mugnaini (1955)

“Beware the autumn people.”

— Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

The Murderer

“Why didn't I start a solitary revolution, deliver man from certain 'conveniences'? 'Convenient for who?'”

— Ray Bradbury

“So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalize us amidst it all.”

— Ray Bradbury, “Zen in the Art of Writing”