But with the library, it's like catnip, I suppose: you begin to run in circles because there's so much to look at and read.

Evil has only the power we give it.

Friendship is an island that you retreat to and you all fall on the floor and laugh at all the other ninnies that don't have enough brains to have your good taste.

If you write a hundred short stories and they're all bad, that doesn't mean you've failed. You fail only if you stop writing.

But we do need a breather. We do need knowledge. And perhaps in a thousand years we might pick smaller cliffs to jump off. The books are to remind us what asses and fools we are. They’re Caesar’s praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, ‘Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.’ Most of us can’t rush around, talk to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven’t time, money or that many friends. The things you’re looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.

Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.

Sometimes you just have to jump out the window and grow wings on the way down.