You're either in love with what you do, or you're not in love.

I don't like the kind of writer who's out to change the world and beat up on people for their own good. Stalin did that and Hitler did that, and to hell with them.

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 around them. It can't last.

Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down.

The sun burnt every day. It burnt Time. The world rushed in a circle and turned on its axis and time was busy burning the years and the people anyway, without any help from him. So if he burnt things with the firemen, and the sun burnt Time, that meant everything burnt!

Once the automobile appeared you could have predicted that it would destroy as many people as it did.

For everyone nowadays knows, absolutely is CERTAIN, that nothing bad will ever happen to ME. Others die, I go on. There are no consequences and no responsibilities. Except that there ARE. But let's not talk about them, eh? By the time the consequences catch up to you, it's too late, isn't it, Montag?