451 по фаренгейту

           "DoverBeach." Hismouthwasnumb. 

           "Nowreadinaniceclearvoiceandgoslow." 

           Theroomwasblazinghot,hewasallfire,hewasallcoldness; theysatinthemiddleofanemptydesertwiththreechairsandhimstanding, swaying,andhimwaitingforMrs.Phelpstostopstraighteningherdresshem andMrs.Bowlestotakeherfingersawayfromherhair. Thenhebegantoreadinalow,stumblingvoicethatgrewfirmerasheprogressedfromlinetoline, andhisvoicewentoutacrossthedesert,intothewhiteness,andaroundthethreesittingwomenthereinthegreathotemptiness: 

           TheSeaofFaith 

           Wasonce,too,atthefull,androundearth’sshore 

           Laylikethefoldsofabrightgirdlefurled. 

           ButnowIonlyhear 

           Itsmelancholy,long,withdrawingroar, 

           Retreating,tothebreath 

           Ofthenight-wind,downthevastedgesdrear 

           Andnakedshinglesoftheworld. 

           Thechairscreakedunderthethreewomen.Montagfinisheditout: 

           Ah,love,letusbetrue 

           Tooneanother!fortheworld,whichseems 

           Toliebeforeuslikealandofdreams 

           Sovarious,sobeautiful,sonew, 

           Hathreallyneitherjoy,norlove,norlight, 

           Norcertitude,norpeace,norhelpforpain; 

           Andwearehereasonadarklingplain 

           Sweptwithconfusedalarmsofstruggleandflight, 

           Whereignorantarmiesclashbynight. 

           Mrs.Phelpswascrying. 

           Theothersinthemiddleofthedesertwatchedhercryinggrowveryloudasherfacesqueezeditselfoutofshape. Theysat,nottouchingher,bewilderedbyherdisplay. Shesobbeduncontrollably. Montaghimselfwasstunnedandshaken.