“Can’t we,” he pleaded to the world, to himself, to the officials, to the Machine, “can’t we take it back, can’t we make it alive again? Can’t we start over? Can’t we-”
- “The Sound of Thunder” (1952)
Dawn showed faintly in the east. Among the ruins, one wall stood alone. Within the wall, a last voice said, over and over again and again, even as the sun rose to shine upon the heaped rubble and steam:
“Today is August 5, 2026, today is August 5, 2026, today is…”
- “There Will Come Soft Rains” (1950)
I can’t say all that much about Ray Bradbury except the man’s ability with prose has left me in awe since I was a teenager. And probably will do forever.