451 по фаренгейту

           "Holdon.Well,cometothinkofit,wecanfinishthishandlater. Justleaveyourcardsfacedownandhustletheequipment. Onthedoublenow."AndBeattyroseupagain. "Montag,youdon’tlookwell?I’dhatetothinkyouwerecomingdownwithanotherfever..." 

           "I’llbeallright." 

           "You’llbefine.Thisisaspecialcase.Comeon,jumpforit!" 

           Theyleapedintotheairandclutchedthebrasspoleasifitwerethelastvantagepointaboveatidalwavepassingbelow, andthenthebrasspole,totheirdismayslidthemdownintodarkness,intotheblastandcoughandsuctionofthegaseousdragonroaringtolife! 

           "Hey!" 

           Theyroundedacornerinthunderandsiren,withconcussionoftyres,withscreamofrubber,withashiftofkerosenebulkintheglitterybrasstank,likethefoodinthestomachofagiant; withMontag’sfingersjoltingoffthesilverrail,swingingintocoldspace,withthewindtearinghishairbackfromhishead, withthewindwhistlinginhisteeth, andhimallthewhilethinkingofthewomen,thechaffwomeninhisparlourtonight, withthekernelsblownoutfromunderthembyaneonwind, andhissillydamnedreadingofabooktothem. Howliketryingtoputoutfireswithwater-pistols,howsenselessandinsane. Onerageturnedinforanother. Oneangerdisplacinganother. Whenwouldhestopbeingentirelymadandbequiet,beveryquietindeed? 

           "Herewego!"