The flying Machine By Ray Bradbury
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- Excellency, a man is flying!
- But the other man will have an evil face and an evil heart, and the beauty will be gone. It is this man I fear. Why? Why? Who is to say that someday just such a man, in just such an apparatus of paper and reed, might not fly in the sky and drop huge stones upon the Great Wall of China?
- Yes, yes. I am the man who learned to fly and created this wings, your excellency
- What's this! What have I done?
- Hold this man. Call the executioner,
- You are merciful, Emperor.
- And that farmer in the distant field who also saw, tell him it would pay him to consider it only a vision. If ever the word passes around, you and the farmer die within the hour.
- What is the life of one man against those of a million others? I must take solace from that thought.
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