Quotes About Reflection

Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there. It doesn't matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away.

Mais on ne peut pas forcer les gens à écouter. Il faut qu'ils changent d'avis à leur heure, quand ils se demanderont ce qui s'est passé et pourquoi le monde a explosé sous leurs pieds. Ça ne peut pas durer éternellement.

So that man, the first one, knew what we know now: our hour is short, eternity is long.

He saw himself in her eyes, suspended in two shining drops of bright water, himself dark and tiny, in fine detail, the lines about his mouth, everything there, as if her eyes were two miraculous bits of violet amber that might capture and hold him intact.

The leaf-light flickered on the paper-thin skin of the old men's wrists, the shadows alternating with fading sunlight. They moved in a soft whisper.

He must ask himself, "What do I really think of the world, what do I love, fear, hate?" and begin to pour this on paper.

One thing people sometimes forget about Fahrenheit 451 is that the government doesn't begin by burning books—it's ordinary people who turn away from reading and the habits of thought and reflection it encourages. When the government starts actively censoring information, most people don't even bat an eye. How important is reading to the health of a democracy like ours?

How did you get shaken up? What knocked the torch out of your hands?' 'I don't know. We have everything we need to be happy, but we aren't happy.

Any time now, Mr. Forrester will think it over and see it's just the only way and have a good cry and then look around and see it's morning again, even though it's five in the afternoon.

The zipper displaces the button, and a man lacks just that much time to think while dressing at dawn, a philosophical hour, and this a melancholy hour.

Scopo dei libri è di ricordarci quanto siamo somari, dissennati.

What a dreadful surprise," said Beatty. "For everyone nowadays knows, absolutely is certain, that nothing will ever happen to me. Others die, I go on. There are no consequences and no responsibilities. Except that there are. But let's not talk about them, eh? By the time the consequences catch up with you, it's too late, isn't it, Montag?

So here, after fifty years, is Fahrenheit 451. I didn't know what I was doing, but I'm glad that it was done.

Fuego brillante Posfacio de Ray Bradbury, febrero de 1993

We never sit anything out. We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.

Nuk e di. I kemi të gjitha ç'duhen për të qenë të lumtur, e prapë s'jemi dot të lumtur. Diçka mungon. Kërkova përreth dhe pashë se e vetmja gjë që më mungonte ishin librat, ata që unë i kisha djegur gjatë gjithë këtyre dhjetë a njëzet vjetve të fundit. Dhe atëherë mendova se ndoshta janë librat ata që do të më ndihmojnë.

Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I let myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?

but we've got one damn thing the phoenix never had. We know the damn silly thing we just did. We know all the damn silly things we've done for a thousand years, and as long as we know that and always have it around where we can see it, some day we'll stop making the goddam funeral pyres and jumping into the middle of them. We pick up a few more people that remember every generation.

Hiçbir yerde hiç kimsenin kazand???n? an?msam?yorum. SavaÅŸlar kazan?lacak ÅŸeyler deÄŸildir Charlie. Her zaman kaybedersin, son kaybeden de koÅŸullar? belirler. Tüm an?msad???m bir sürü kaybetme ve hüzün, bitmesi d???nda hiçbir ÅŸey iyi olmaz.

Why waste your final hours racing about your cage denying you're a squirrel?

Later, going to sleep, he would feel the fiery smile gripped by his face muscles, in the dark. It never went away, that smile, it never ever went away, as long as he remembered.

C'était exactement ce qu'il désirait pour l'instant. Un signe que le vaste monde l'acceptait et lui offrait le temps nécéssaire pour réfléchir à tout ce qui exigeait reflexion.

I have learned, on my journeys, that if I let a day go by without writing, I grow uneasy. Two days and I am in tremor. Three and I suspect lunacy. Four and I might as well be a hog, suffering the flux in a wallow.

He surveyed the lake of grass below, all the dandelions gone, a touch of rust in the trees, and the smell of Egypt blowing from the far east.