Writer Ray Bradbury is surrounded by toys and treasures in his Beverly Hills, Ca., office.
“Death doesn’t exist. It never did, it never will. But we’ve drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we’ve got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss, an end, a darkness. Nothing.” (Ray Bradbury, ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes’)
Ray Bradbury was a master of science fiction whose lyrical evocations of the future reflected both the optimism and the anxieties of his own postwar America. He died on June 5, 2012, at the age of 91. May his soul rest in peace. (+)
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