Author:  Ray Bradbury
Viewed: 23 - Published at: 10 months ago

Here we all are," said Herb Thompson, taking his cigar out and looking at it reflectively. "And life is sure funny." "Eh?" said Mr. Stoddard. "Nothing, except here we are, living our lives, and some place else on earth a billion other people live their lives." "That's a rather obvious statement." "Life," he put his cigar back in his lips, "is a lonely thing. Even with married people. Sometimes when you're in a person's arms you feel a million miles away from them." "I like that," said his wife. "I didn't mean it that way," he explained, not with haste; because he felt no guilt, he took his time. "I mean we all believe what we believe and live our own little lives while other people live entirely different ones. I mean, we sit here in this room while a thousand people are dying. Some of cancer, some of pneumonia, some of tuberculosis. I imagine someone in the United States is dying right now in a wrecked car.

( Ray Bradbury )
[ Bradbury Stories: 100 of His ]
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