The Fog Horn

See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

"This is dedicated to those who have lost the game of the elements, by one who has always escaped . . . until tonight"

A. R. Tilburne (1887-1965) - Illustration for Ray Bradbury's 'The Wind'

(Weird Tales - March 1943)

1970 cover art by Richard Clifton-Dey for The Small Assassin, by Ray Bradbury

* * * *

“Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together.”

― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

What did time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people.

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, 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” (William Morrow Paperbacks; May 21, 2013) (via Alive on All Channels)

"Can you oppose the forces that see that people die just when they are supposed to die - not too soon, not too late?"

Fred Humiston (1902-1976) - Illustration for Ray Bradbury's 'The Scythe'

(Weird Tales - July 1943)

“So while our art cannot, as we wish it could, save us from wars, privation, envy, greed, old age, or death, it can revitalize us amidst it all.”

— Ray Bradbury, “Zen in the Art of Writing”

Michael Whelan’s cover art for the 40th anniversary edition of Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles (1990)

Source

It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.

— Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (William Morrow Paperbacks; April 23, 2013) (via Cultural Offering)

My uncle says the architects got rid of the front porches because they didn't look well. But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn't want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong kind of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think. So they ran off with the porches. And the gardens, too. Not many gardens any more to sit around in. And look at the furniture. No rocking chairs any more. They're too comfortable. Get people up and running around. ~Ray Bradbury

(Book: Fahrenheit 451 https://amzn.to/3MgR9Hz)

(Art: Photograph by H. Armstrong Roberts)