Quotes About Reflection

The books are to remind us what asses and fools we are. They're Caesar's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, `Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.

Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them, at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us. —Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Treasure this day, and treasure yourself. Truly, neither will ever happen again.

And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again

Death was his little sister one morning when he awoke at the age of seven, looked into her crib, and saw her staring up at him with a blind, blue, fixed and frozen stare until the men came with a small wicker basket to take her away. Death was when he stood by her high chair four weeks later and suddenly realized she'd never be in it again, laughing and crying and making him jealous of her because she was born. That was death.

I started traveling. My luggage was snowed under blizzards of travel stickers. I have been alone in Paris, alone in Vienna, alone in London, and all in all, it is very much like being alone in Green Town, Illinois. It is, in essence, being alone. Oh, you have plenty of time to think, improve your manners, sharpen your conversations. But I sometimes think I could easily trade a verb tense or a curtsy for some company that would stay over for a thirty-year weekend.

As Samuel Spaulding, Esquire, once said, 'Dig in the earth, delve in the soul.' Spin those mower blades, Bill, and walk in the spray of the Fountain of Youth. End of lecture. Besides, a mess of dandelion greens is good eating once in a while.

And Will? Why, he's the last peach, high on a summer tree. Some boys walk by and you cry, seeing them. They feel good, they look good, they are good. Oh, they're not above peeing off a bridge, or stealing an occasional dime-store pencil sharpener; it's not that. It's just, you know, seeing them pass, that's how they'll be all their life; they'll get hit, hurt, cut, bruised, and always wonder why, why does it happen? how can it happen to them?

We never burned right.

Did all dying people feel this way, as if they had never lived?

Three in the morning, thought Charles Halloway, seated on the edge of his bed. Why did the train come at that hour? For, he thought, it's a special hour. Women never wake then, do they?

He stood and he only had one leg. The other was like a chunk of burnt pine-log he was carrying along as a penance for some obscure sin.

Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave. They just might stop us from making the same damn insane mistakes!

Dandelion Wine is nothing if it is not the boy-hid-in-the-man playing in the fields of the Lord on the green grass of other Augusts in the midst of starting to grow up, grow old, and sense darkness waiting under the trees to seed the blood. I

Light the third page from the second and so on, chain-smoking, chapter by chapter, all the silly things the words mean, all the false promises, all the second-hand notions and time-worn philosophies

insanlar daha çok meÅŸaleye benziyorlard?;birileri üfleyinceye kadar yanarlard?.Ne kadar nadir diÄŸer insanlar?n yüzleri sizi sizden al?p,kendi duygular?n?z? en titrek düÅŸüncelerinizi sizlere yans?t?rd??

Teachers say if you write a story you must never name what you're trying to write. Just do it. When it's over you'll know what you've done.

You have a right to youth. Go now, if you want. Because if you stay you'll have no time for anything but working and growing old and dying at your work. But it is good work.

Se da cuenta ahora porqué los libros son odiados y temidos? Muestran los poros del rostro de la vida

I had no way to stop . I did not write Fahrenheit 451, it wrote me.

He held both hands over his eyes and applied a steady pressure there as if to crush memory into place.

This is a book of warning. It is a reminder that what we have is valuable, and that sometimes we take what we value for granted. There

The good writers touch life often.

A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper. And I'd never even thought that thought before.