The Martian Chronicles Quotes
The Martian Chronicles
by
Ray Bradbury68,432 ratings, 4.06 average rating, 2,178 reviews
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The Martian Chronicles Quotes
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“Science is no more than an investigation of a miracle we can never explain, and art is an interpretation of that miracle.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“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 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
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“We earth men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“They knew how to live with nature and get along with nature. They didn't try too hard to be all men and no animal. That's the mistake we made when Darwin showed up. We embraced him and Huxley and Freud, all smiles. And then we discovered that Darwin and our religions didn't mix. Or at least we didn't think they did. We were fools. We tried to budge Darwin and Huxley and Freud. They wouldn't move very well. So, like idiots, we tried knocking down religion. We succeeded pretty well. We lost our faith and went around wondering what life was for. If art was no more than a frustrated outflinging of desire, if religion was no more than self-delusion, what good was life? Faith had always given us answer to all things. But it all went down the drain with Freud and Darwin. We were and still are lost people.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“I'm not anyone, I'm just myself; whatever I am, I am something, and now I'm something you can't help.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“They began by controlling books of cartoons and then detective books and, of course, films, one way or another, one group or another, political bias, religious prejudice, union pressure; there was always a minority afraid of something, and a great majority afraid of the dark, afraid of the future, afraid of the past, afraid of the present, afraid of themselves and shadows of themselves.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“The Men of Earth came to Mars. They came because they were afraid or unafraid, because they were happy or unhappy, because they felt like Pilgrims or did not feel like Pilgrims. There was a reason for each man. They were leaving bad wives or bad towns; they were coming to find something or leave something or get something, to dig up something or bury something or leave something alone. They were coming with small dreams or large dreams or none at all...it was not unusual that the first men were few. The numbers grew steadily in proportion to the census of Earth Men already on Mars. There was comfort in numbers. But the first Lonely Ones had to stand by themselves...”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“Garrett," said Stendahl, "do you know why I've done this to you? Because you burned Mr. Poe's books without really reading them. You took other people's advice that they needed burning. Otherwise you'd have realized what I was going to do to you when we came down here a moment ago. Ignorance is fatal, Mr. Garrett.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“It is good to renew one's wonder, said the philosopher. Space travel has again made children of us all.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“I have something to fight for and live for; that makes me a better killer. I've got what amounts to a religion now. It's learning how to breathe all over again. And how to lie in the sun getting a tan, letting the sun work into you. And how to hear music and how to read a book. What does your civilization offer?”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“The Martians were there—in the canal—reflected in the water.... The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the rippling water....”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“I'm being ironic. Don't interrupt a man in the midst of being ironic, it's not polite. There!”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“Do you ever wonder if--well, if there are people living on the third planet?'
'The third planet is incapable of supporting life,' stated the husband patiently. 'Our scientists have said there's far too much oxygen in their atmosphere.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
'The third planet is incapable of supporting life,' stated the husband patiently. 'Our scientists have said there's far too much oxygen in their atmosphere.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“I hate being clever, thought the captain, when you don’t really feel clever and don’t want to be clever. To sneak around and
make plans and feel big about making them. I hate this feeling of thinking I’m doing right when I’m not really certain I am. Who
are we, anyway? The majority? Is that the answer? The majority is always holy, is it not? Always, always; just never wrong for
one little insignificant tiny moment, is it? Never ever wrong in ten million years? He thought: What is this majority and who are in
it? And what do they think and how did they get that way and will they ever change and how the devil did I get caught in this
rotten majority? I don’t feel comfortable. Is it claustrophobia, fear of crowds, or common sense? Can one man be right, while all
the world thinks they are right? Let’s not think about it. Let’s crawl around and act exciting and pull the trigger. There, and there!”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
make plans and feel big about making them. I hate this feeling of thinking I’m doing right when I’m not really certain I am. Who
are we, anyway? The majority? Is that the answer? The majority is always holy, is it not? Always, always; just never wrong for
one little insignificant tiny moment, is it? Never ever wrong in ten million years? He thought: What is this majority and who are in
it? And what do they think and how did they get that way and will they ever change and how the devil did I get caught in this
rotten majority? I don’t feel comfortable. Is it claustrophobia, fear of crowds, or common sense? Can one man be right, while all
the world thinks they are right? Let’s not think about it. Let’s crawl around and act exciting and pull the trigger. There, and there!”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“You don’t question Providence. If you can’t have the reality, a dream is just as good.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“The Lord is not serious. In fact, it is a little hard to know just what else He is except loving. And love has to do with humor, doesn't it? For you cannot love someone unless you put up with him, can you? And you cannot put up with someone constantly unless you can laugh at him. Isn't that true? And certainly we are rediculous little animals wallowing in the fudge bowl, and God must love us all the more because we appeal to his humor.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets.
And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns.
Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground.
Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky.
The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns.
Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground.
Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky.
The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“I'm numb and I'm tired. Too much has happened today. I feel as if I'd been out in a pounding rain for forty-eight hours without an umbrella or a coat. I'm soaked to the skin with emotion.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“¿Garret? -llamó Stendahl en voz baja. Garret calló-. ¿Sabe usted por qué le hago esto? Porque quemó los libros del señor Poe sin haberlos leído. Le bastó la opinión de los demás. Si hubiera leído los libros, habría adivinado lo que yo le iba a hacer, cuando bajamos hace un momento. La ignorancia es fatal, señor Garret.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“All the things which had uses. All the mountains which had names. We'll give them new names, but the old names are there, somewhere in time..." -Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“...trees to cool the towns in the boiling summer, trees to hold back the winter winds. There were so many things a tree could do: add color, provide shade, drop fruit, or become a children's playground, a whole sky universe to climb and hang from; an architecture of food and pleasure, that was a tree. But most of all the trees would distill an icy air for the lungs, and a gentle rustling for the ear when you lay nights in your snowy bed and were gentled to sleep by the sound.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“Oiled, with tube bones cut from bronze and sunk in gelatin, the robots lay. In coffins for the not dead and not alive, in planked boxes, the metronomes waited to be set in motion. There was a smell of lubrication and lathed brass. There was a silence of the tomb yard. Sexed but sexless, the robots. Named but unnamed, and borrowing from humans everything but humanity, the robots stared at the nailed lids of their labeled F.O.B. boxes, in a death that was not even a death, for there had never been a life.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“And they made Alice drink something from a bottle which reduced her to a size where she could no longer cry 'Curiouser and curiouser,' and they gave the Looking Glass one hammer blow to smash it and every Red King and Oyster away!”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“They stood there, King of the Hill, Top of the Heap, Ruler of All They Surveyed, Unimpeachable Monarchs and Presidents, trying to understand what it meant to own a world and how big a world really was.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke. And from the rockets ran men with hammers in their hands to beat the strange world into a shape that was familiar to the eye, to bludgeon away all the strangeness, their mouths fringed with nails so they resembled steel-toothed carnivores, spitting them into their swift hands as they hammered up frame cottages and scuttled over roofs with shingles to blot out the eerie stars, and fit green shades to pull against the night.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
“All down the way the pursued and the pursuing, the dream and the dreamers, the quarry and the hounds. All down the way the sudden revealment, the flash of familiar eyes, the cry of an old, old name. Everyone leaping forward as, like an image reflected from ten thousand mirrors, ten thousand eyes, the running dream came and went, a different face to those ahead, those behind, those yet to be met, those unseen... And here they all are now, at the boat, wanting the dream for their own.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles