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Quote by Ray Bradbury

“About this grass now. I didn't finish telling. It grows so close it's guaranteed to kill off clover and dandelions-" "Great God in heaven! That means no dandelion wine next year! That means no bees crossing our lot! You're out of your mind, son”

Quote by Ray Bradbury

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Dandelion Wine

Dandelion Wine is a coming-of-age story that delves into the joys and sorrows of a young boy's summer in a small town. The novel captures the essence of innocence and the bittersweet nature of growing up, with vivid descriptions of nature and the changing seasons. more

Author

Ray Bradbury
Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury, born on August 22, 1920, and died on June 5, 2012, was an influential American science fiction writer, playwright, and poet. His works are known for their unique imagination and profound philosophical insights, which have had a profound impact on the science fiction genre. more

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“Somewhere, a book said once, all the talk ever talked, all the songs ever sung, still lived, had vibrated way out in space and if you could travel to Far Centauri you could hear George Washington talking in his sleep or Caesar surprised at the knife in his back. So much for sounds. What about light then? All things, once seen, they didn't just die, that couldn't be. It must be then that somewhere, searching the world, perhaps in the dripping multiboxed honeycombs where light was an amber sap stored by pollen-fired bees, or in the thirty thousand lenses of the noon dragonfly's gemmed skull you might find all the colors and sights of the world in any one year. Or pour one single drop of this dandelion wine beneath a microscope and perhaps the entire world of July Fourth would firework out in Vesuvius showers.”

Dandelion Wine
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“Where, where all the summer dogs leaping like dolphins in the wind-braided and unbraided tides of what? Where lightning smell of Green Machine or trolley? Did the wine remember? It did not? Or seemed not, anyway. Somewhere, a book said once, all the talk ever talked, all the songs ever sung, still lived, had vibrated way out in space and if you could travel to Far Centauri you could hear George Washington talking in his sleep or Caesar surprised at the knife in his back. So much for sounds. What about light then? All things, once seen, they didn't just die, that couldn't be. It must be then that somewhere, searching the world, perhaps in the dripping multiboxed honeycombs where light was an amber sap stored by pollen-fired bees, or in the thirty thousand lenses of the noon dragonfly's hemmed skull you might find all the colors and sights of the world in any one year. Or pour one single drop of this dandelion wine beneath a microscope and perhaps the entire world of July Fourth would firework out in Vesuvius showers. This he would have to believe. And yet... looking here at this bottle which by its number signalized the day when Colonel Freeleigh had stumbled and fallen six feet into the earth, Douglas could not find so much as a gram of dark sediment, not a speck of the great flouring buffalo dust, not a flake of sulphur from the guns at Shiloh...”

MemoirsDandelion WineUncontainable
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“Вземайти всичко, каквото поискате, при условие, че наистина го желаете. Ето как ще разберете. Попитвате се: "Искам ли това нещо от цялото си сърце? Бих ли могъл да преживея този ден без него?" И ако усетите, че без него до залез слънце ще сте се повалили мъртви, грабвате скъпоценното нещо и си го отнасяте с вас.”

Ray BradburyDandelion Wineвино от глухарчетарей бредбъри
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“Тіло живе лише задля себе. Воно тільки те й робить, що їсть, п'є і чекає, коли настане ніч. Бо самою своєю суттю належить ночі. А дух, Вільяме, народжений від сонця, і йому призначено бути невсипущим і допитливим багато тисяч годин нашого життя.”

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