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Book: Something Wicked This Way Comes
Quotes of Book: Something Wicked This Way
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  1. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    But no man's a hero to himself. I've lived with me a lifetime. Will. I know everything worth knowing about myself-
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  2. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Per alcuni, l'autunno viene presto, e permane per tutta la vita, quando ottobre segue settembre, e novembre tocca ottobre, e poi, invece di dicembre e del natale, non c'è la stella di Betlemme, non c'è letizia, ma ritorna settembre e il vecchio ottobre, e così via, per tutti gli anni, senza inverno, senza primavera, senza estate vivificatrice. Per questi esseri, l'autunno è la stagione normale, l'unica stagione, e non c'è per loro altra scelta. Da dove vengono? Dalla polvere. Dove vanno? Verso la tomba. È sangue che scorre nelle loro vene? No: è il vento della notte. Che cosa pulsa nella loro testa? Il verme. Che cosa parla attraverso le loro bocche? Il rospo. Che cosa guarda attraverso i loro occhi? Il serpente. Che cosa ode attraverso le loro orecchie? L'abisso tra le stelle. Scatenano il temporale umano per le anime, divorano la carne della ragione, riempiono le tombe di peccatori. Si agitano freneticamente. Corrono come scarafaggi, strisciano, tessono, filtrano, si agitano, fanno oscurare tutte le lune, e rannuvolano le acque chiare. La ragnatela li ode, trema.. si spezza. Questo è il popolo dell'autunno. Guardatevi da loro.
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  3. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    how we get our fingers in each other's clay. That's friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of the other.
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  4. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Not words in books or words you say, but real thoughts, real actions, quick thought, quick action, win the day.
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  5. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Have a drink?"" I don't need it," said Halloway. "But someone inside me does.""Who?"The boy I once was, thought Halloway, who runs like the leaves down the sidewalk autumn nights.But he couldn't say that.So he drank, eyes shut, listening to hear if that thing inside turned over again, rustling in the deep bons that were stacked for burning but never burned.
    book-quotealcoholyouthregret

  6. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    I suppose one night hundreds of thousands of years ago in a cave by a night fire when one of those shaggy men wakened to gaze over the banked coals at his woman, his children, and thought of their being cold, dead, gone forever. Then he must have wept. And he put out his hand in the night to the woman who must die some day and to the children who must follow her. And for a little bit next morning, he treated them somewhat better, for he saw that they, like himself, had the seed of night in them.
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  7. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    For some, autumn comes early, stays late through life where October follows September and November touches October and then instead of December and Christ's birth, there is no Bethlehem Star, no rejoicing, but September comes again and old October and so on down the years, with no winter, spring, or revivifying summer. For these beings, fall is the ever normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They
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  8. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Lived in Chicago, survived in New York, brooded in Detroit, floundered in lots of places, arrived here late, after living in libraries around the country all those years because I liked being alone, liked matching up in books what I'd seen on the roads.
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  9. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    the shade of the raining tree where the sky fell and was lost in autumn leaves and crept down at last in shining rivers along the branches and trunk"
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  10. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Way late at night Will had heard-how often?-train whistles jetting steam along the rim of sleep, forlorn, alone and far, no matter how near they came. Sometimes he woke to find tears on his cheek, asked why, lay back, listened and thought, Yes! they make me cry, going east, going west, the trains of far gone in country deeps they drown in tides of sleep that escape the towns.
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  11. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    And running, Will thought, Boy, it's the same old thing. I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and-lickety-split! I climb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I got a bank account. Jim's got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back and the tennis shoes on his feet. How come I think he's richer? Because, Will thought, I sit on a rock in the sun and old Jim, he prickles his arm-hairs by moonlight and dances with hoptoads. I tend cows. Jim tames Gila monsters. Fool! I yell at Jim. Coward! he yells back. And here we-go!
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  12. Ray Bradbury _ Something Wicked This Way

    Is Death important? No. Everything that happens before Death is what counts.
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