. .don't face a problem, burn it.
И если утонете по дороге, так хоть будете знать, что плыли к берегу.
But that is the wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth the doing.
You see? Granger turned to Montag. Grandfather's been dead for all these years, but if you lifted my skull, by God, in the convolutions of my brain you'd find the big ridges of his thumbprint.
Many neat holes dug in the dawn hours, seeds dropped in, and water brought....And, the thing that he wanted was Mars grown green and tall with trees and foliage, producing air, more air, growing large...
Love cushions all your irritations, unnatural instincts, hatreds and immaturities.
451° Fahrenheit: la temperatura a la que el papel de los libros se inflama y arde.
A book is a loaded gun in the house next door...Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man?
A book is a loaded gun.
A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion.
A day without writing was a little death.
A good night sleep, or a ten minute bawl, or a pint of chocolate ice cream, or all three together, is good medicine.
A long time back, she thought, I dreamed a dream, and was enjoying it so much when someone wakened me, and that day I was born. And now? Now, let me see...She cast her mind back. Where was I? she thou...
A lot will be lost that way, of course.But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up under them.
A red ganglion, no bigger than a scarlet thread, snapped and quivered; a nerve, no greater than a red linen fiber twisted. Deep in her one little mech was gone and the entire machine, imbalanced, was...
A regrettable situation, said Bierce, smiling, for the Yuletide merchants who, toward the last there, as I recall, were beginning to put up holly and sing Noel the day before Halloween. With any luck...
A stranger is shot in the street, you hardly move to help. But if, half an hour before, you spent just ten minutes with the fellow and knew a little about him and his family, you might just jump in fr...
A train has a poor memory; it soon puts all behind it.
AT DAWN, a juggernaut of thunder wheeled over the stony heavens in a spark-throwing tumult. Rain fell softly on town cupolas, chuckled from rainspouts, and spoke in strange subterranean tongues beneat...
Across the street and down the way the other houses stood with their flat fronts. What was it Clarisse had said one afternoon? No front porches. My uncle says there used to be front porches. And peopl...
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