Ray Bradbury Quotes

I really did start a whole way of thinking about musical theater.

Every garden-maker should be an artist along his own lines. That is the only possible way to create a garden, irrespective of size or wealth.

Death without the possibility of ever changing the world is the same as a life that never was.

As you move through this life...you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life - and travel - leaves marks on you.

Both the revolutionary and the creative individual are perpetual juveniles. The revolutionary does not grow up because he cannot grow, while the creative individual cannot grow up because he keeps growing.

Writing is one of the ways I participate in transformation.

Let no one think that real gardening is a bucolic and meditative occupation. It is an insatiable passion, like everything else to which a man gives his heart.

I am about to stop being a get-along kind of guy and turn into somebody who makes a difference.

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.

The Good Lord Bird don't run in a flock. He Flies alone. You know why? He's searching. Looking for the right tree. And when he sees that tree, that dead tree that's taking all the nutrition and good things from the forest floor. He goes out and he gnaws at it, and he gnaws at it till the thing gets tired and it falls down. And the dirt from it raises other trees. It gives them good things to eat. It makes 'em strong. Gives 'em life. And the circle goes 'round.

We're all standing on the shoulders of what other people have done. But you're supposed to take that and add your own sauce. It can be intimidating, believe me.

We are the beginning ... We always have been. This time, let it be more than a beginning.

True genius can be identified by the fact that its expression changes the world into something it has never been before.

Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination. You are always living three, or indeed six, months hence. I believe that people entirely devoid of imagination never can be really good gardeners. To be content with the present, and not striving about the future, is fatal.

I love the process of cutting everything out with a scalpel yourself: I don't want to have my stencils drawn up in Illustrator, then laser-cut. I like the fact that it's slightly wrong; I think it gives it a beauty. The individual and handmade will always be worth more than what a computer can do, at least until computers can learn how to make mistakes.

We all leave one another. We die, we change - it's mostly change - we outgrow our best friends; but even if I do leave you, I will have passed on to you something of myself; you will be a different person because of knowing me; it's inescapable.

The past is what provides us with the building blocks. Our job today is to create new buildings out of them.

New ideas come into this world somewhat like falling meteors, with a flash and an explosion.

Men of great genius and large heart sow the seeds of a new degree of progress in the world, but they bear fruit only after many years.

Gardening has compensations out of all proportion to its goals. It is creation in the pure sense.

One is always changing. I don't want to write the same book and I couldn't, because I'm a different person.

A share in two revolutions is living to some purpose.

How you all will change the work after I am gone. If I came back a hundred years from now, I just wonder if I would even recognize it.

The collision of a great man with a great idea strikes fire in dry flax.

Wherever man exists, he finds the need to redesign, to recreate the world. A more beautiful world, purer, sweeter smelling and more colorful. A garden is probably the spot where the hopes for civilization are best captured. In fact, man defines himself by his garden. My Grandmother standing wordless fifteen minutes Between rows of loganberries, clippers poised in her hand.