From The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury’s 1949 Sci-fi Classic.

"It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason."

– Ray Bradbury

“Without libraries what have we? We have no past and no future.”

— Ray Bradbury

A Medicine for Melancholy, Ray Bradbury

Why is it," he said, one time, at the subway entrance, "I feel I've known you so many years?" "Because I like you," she said, "and I don't want anything from you.

—Ray Bradbury

I read that a few years ago and it was WILD. I only remember picking it up because it was mentioned in an episode of Criminal Minds and it sounded crazy haha

It really is! I find a lot of Ray Bradbury stories completely out there, ESPECIALLY considering how old they are!

And obligatory favourite quotes, and they are all related to death, because of course, Ray 💀💀💀

Long before you knew what death was you were wishing it on someone else.

Oh, death in space was most humorous.

And now the great loose brain was disintegrating. The components of the brain which had worked so beautifully and efficiently in the skull case of the rocket ship firing through space were dying one by one; the meaning of their life together was falling apart. And as a body dies when the brain ceases functioning, so the spirit of the ship and their long time together and what they meant to one another was dying.

Gardening is the handiest excuse for being a philosopher. Nobody guesses, nobody accuses, nobody knows, but there you are, Plato in the peonies, Socrates force-growing his own hemlock. A man toting a sack of blood manure across his lawn is kin to Atlas letting the world spin easy on his shoulder.

Dandelion Wine, Ray Bradbury

September Loneliness

Ray Bradbury// September Morn, Paul Émile Chabas// "Persephone", Alice Jones// Painting with the Padre, Daniel Garber// Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami// Sunny September, Helen McNicoll// "Autumn Psalm", Julia de Burgos

See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

“Why haven’t I stopped to think and smell the last thirty years?”

— Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes