Primul lucru, dupa cum spuneam, e calitatea cunostintelor noastre. Al doilea lucru, strans legat de primul, e ragazul necesar pentru a le digera. Iar al treilea e dreptul de a savarsi fapte intemeiate...
Perhaps I'm not their dead one back, but I'm something almost better to them; an ideal shaped by their minds.
Our civilization is flinging itself to pieces. Stand back from the centrifuge.
Only recently, glancing at the novel, I realized that Montag is named after a paper manufacturing company. And Faber, of course, is a maker of pencils! What a sly thing my subconscious was, to name th...
One last thing, said Beatty. At least once in his career, every fireman gets an itch. What do the books say, he wonders. Oh, to scratch that itch, eh? Well, Montag, take my word for it, I’ve had to re...
Once upon a time there were two cities within a city. One was light and one was dark. One moved restlessly all day while the other never stirred. One was warm and filled with ever-changing lights. One...
Now that I have you thoroughly confused, let me pause to hear your own dismayed cry.
Not about mean old nasty Mars, I tell you, mister! It’s your type that is going to boil for years, andsuffer and break out in black pimples and be tortured—— I must admit Earth isn’t very nice. You’ve...
No, you mustn’t! If there were no war, if there was peace in the world, I’d say fine, have fun! But, Montag, you mustn’t go back to being just a fireman. All isn’t well with the world.
No, we'll save what we can, we'll do what there is left to do. If we have to burn, Let's take a few more with us.
No one said anything. We all just looked up at the sky and we breathed out and in and we all thought the same things, but nobody said.
No matter how hard you try to be what you once were, you can only be what you are here and now.
No espere ser salvado por alguna cosa, persona, máquina o biblioteca. Realice su propia labor salvadora, y si se ahoga, muera, por lo menos, sabiendo que se dirigía hacia la playa.
Memories, as my father once said, are porcupines. To hell with them! Stay away from them! They make you unhappy. They ruin your work. They make you cry
Melt all the guns, I thought, break the knives, burn the guillotines-and the malicious will still write letters that kill.
Magic, you say? asked Douglas. Magic six ways from Sunday. You believe it? Yes I do and no I don't.
MOTHER:Why, just lying there, Jim, you run so fast. I never saw anyone move so much, just sleeping. Promise me, Jim. Wherever you go and come back, bring lots of kids. Let them run wild. Let me spoil...
Los buenos escritores tocan a menudo la vida. Los mediocres la rozan rápidamente. Los malos la violan y la abandonan a las moscas
Long before you knew what death was you were wishing it on someone else.
Let us remain childlike and not childish in our 20-20 vision, borrowing such telescopes, rockets, or magic carpets as may be needed to hurry us along to miracles of physics as well as dream.