You ask Why to a lot of things and you wind up very unhappy indeed, if you keep at it. The poor girl's better off dead

The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke.

Are you happy?" she [Clarisse] said. "Am I what?" he [Montag] cried. But she was gone- running in the moonlight. Her front door shut gently.

What church could compete with the fireworks of the pure soul?

They walked still farther and the girl said, "Is it true that long ago firemen put fires out instead of going to start them?" No. Houses have always been fireproof, take my word for it." Strange. I heard once that a long time ago houses used to burn by accident and they needed firemen to stop the flames.

Science-fiction balances you on the cliff. Fantasy shoves you off.

We can't live alone in any society. But the best way to help a society or group, is to be the best individual in it that we can be.