Character: Guy Montag

Let me in. I won't say a word. I'll be quiet. I just want to hear what you say.

- I acted like a fool from beginning to end. Something stupid. I can't stay long. I'm going, God knows where, ' said Montag.
Anyway, you were a fool about the right things.

... not to leave us alone. It is necessary that we worried, at least occasionally.

If I say long, it may be, and will agree to anything reasonable.

It seemed to him that he was split in two, split in half and one half was as hot as fire and the other cold as ice, one was sweet, the other cruel, one timid, the other hard as a rock. And each half split in two "I" tried to destroy the other.

It's only been a hour since he met Clarisse McLellan... only One hour, but how things have changed - he melted down, old world and instead have created a new, cold and colorless.

It's thin face resembled dial hours small, weakly glowing in a dark room, when I awoke in the night, I want to know the time and see that the arrows just show the hour, minute and second, and this bright and silent face calmly and confidently tells you that the night passes, though, and becomes darker and soon the sun will rise.

Of course, I'm happy. How could it be otherwise?

How many times a person can die and yet remain alive?

Darkness. Darkness. He was not happy. He said it himself. He admitted to it. He wore his happiness like a mask, but the girl took it and ran off across the lawn, and now we can't knock on her door and ask that she return him a mask.

And, as before, to burn it was a pleasure - nice to give vent to his anger, to burn, to tear, to destroy, to rend in shreds, to the meaningless problem. There is no solution? So, now there will not be a problem! Fire was best for everything!

- People aren't saying anything.
- Well, how can that be!
Yes, Yes. About anything. They name a lot of cars or clothes or swimming pools mostly and say How swell! They are all saying the same things. As ratchet. While the café include drawers jokes and listening to the same old spicy or include the music wall and watch it run color patterns, but all of this is completely pointless, as the tints of colors.

We have everything to be happy, but we are unhappy.

- Have you ever read the books you burn?
He laughed.
Is punishable by law.
- Yeah... of Course.
- This is a good job. Monday to burn the books of Edna Millay, Wednesday Whitman, Friday Faulkner. To burn to ashes, then burn the ashes. This is our professional motto.