Wouldn’t it be fine if we could prove things with our mind, and know for certain that things are always in their place. I’d like to know what a place… - Ray Bradbury

I'd like to know what a place is like when I'm not there. I'd like to be sure.

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.

That's the great secret of creativity. You treat ideas like cats: you make them follow you.

A few days before the picnic, he had found a photograph of his father twenty-five years younger, standing with a group of friends at college. The photograph had disturbed him, made him aware as he had not been before of the passing of time, the swift flow of the years away from youth. A picture taken of him as he was now would, in twenty-five years, look as strange to his own children as his father’s picture did to him—unbelievably young, a stranger out of a strange, never-returning time.