451 по фаренгейту

           Hetookabreathandletitoutandatlastsaid, "No,Idon’tmeanthat." 

           "ThepsychiatristwantstoknowwhyIgooutandhikearoundintheforestsandwatchthebirdsandcollectbutterflies. I’llshowyoumycollectionsomeday." 

           "Good." 

           "TheywanttoknowwhatIdowithallmytime.ItellthemthatsometimesIjustsitandthink.ButIwon’ttellthemwhat.I’vegotthemrunning. Andsometimes,Itellthem,Iliketoputmyheadback,likethis,andlettherainfallintomymouth.Ittastesjustlikewine. Haveyouevertriedit?" 

           "NoI—" 

           "Youhaveforgivenme,haven’tyou?" 

           "Yes."Hethoughtaboutit."Yes,Ihave.Godknowswhy.You’repeculiar,you’reaggravating,yetyou’reeasytoforgive. Yousayyou’reseventeen?" 

           "Well—nextmonth." 

           "Howodd.Howstrange.Andmywifethirtyandyetyouseemsomucholderattimes. Ican’tgetoverit." 

           "You’repeculiaryourself,Mr.Montag. SometimesIevenforgetyou’reafireman.Now,mayImakeyouangryagain?" 

           "Goahead." 

           "Howdiditstart?Howdidyougetintoit?Howdidyoupickyourworkandhowdidyouhappentothinktotakethejobyouhave?