Ray Bradbury

“ I, Iorr. And he, that one who calls himself Tylle. And the planet declined and gave way to nothingness. The peoples and the armies languished in the midst of a great war which had lasted five thousand years. We lived long lives and loved long loves, drank much, slept much, fought much. And when the planet died, our bodies withered, and, only in time, and with much science, did we survive.”
Survive, wondered Leonard Sale. But there is nothing of you!
“Our minds, fool, our minds! What is a body without a mind?”
What is a mind without a body, laughed Leonard Sale. ”

“ A million years, perhaps, all these thoughts of death and disorder and conquest, lingering in the innocent but poisonous air of the planet, waiting for a real man to give them a channel through which they might issue again in all their senseless virulence. ”

“ Twenty years of insanity. Twenty years of torture, doing what you don't want to do. Twenty years of wars raging and being split apart, twenty years of nausea and trembling.
His head sank down between his knees. His eyes snapped and cracked and made soft noises. His eardrums popped tiredly.
Sleep, sleep, sang soft sea voices.
I'll—I'll make a proposition with you, listen, thought Leonard Sale. You, Iorr, you, too, Tylle! Iorr, you can occupy me on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Tylle, you can take me over on Sundays, Tuesdays and Saturdays. Thursday is maid's night out. Okay? ”

“ Ten thousand jeweled guns exploded. Ten thousand voices chanted in his ears. Now his body was riven and extended, shaken and rolled, he Was screaming, writhing, the plates of his skull threatened to burst asunder. ”

“ He tried the radio receiver. It was dead.
Well, he wrote, from seven o'clock until eight, sing all the songs you remember, make your own entertainment. From eight until nine think about Helen King. Remember Helen. On second thought, think about Helen right now.
He marked that out with his pencil.
The rest of the days were set down in minute detail.
He checked the medical kit. There were several packets of tablets that would keep you awake. One tablet an hour every hour for six-days. He felt quite confident.
“Here's mud in your evil eye, Iorr, Tylle!” ”

“ The world of his thoughts, his brain, his skull, divided into camps, that of Iorr, that of Tylle. They were using him!
Pennants flung up on a pink mind sky! Brass shields caught the sun. Grey animals shifted and came rushing in bristling tides of sword a plume and trumpet.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! The rushing.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The roaring.
Nowwwwwwwwwwwwww! The whirling.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm—
Ten thousand men hurtled across the small hidden stage. Ten thousand men floated on the shellacked inner ball of his eye. Ten thousand javelins hissed between the small bone hulls of his head. ”

“ This story, the develish pen of Ray Bradbury achieves that originality of concept, the most near-to-believable stage wherein one lone man can have an entire world to himself ... to himself and few disquieting dreams.
YOU DON'T WANT death and you don't expect death. Something goes wrong, your rocket tilts in space, a planetoid jumps up, blackness, movement, hands over the eyes, a violent pulling back of available power in the fore-jets, the crash... ”

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