451 по фаренгейту

           "Mywifesaysbooksaren’t‘real.’" 

           "ThankGodforthat.Youcanshutthem,say,‘Holdonamoment.’ YouplayGodtoit. ButwhohasevertornhimselffromtheclawthatenclosesyouwhenyoudropaseedinaTVparlour? Itgrowsyouanyshapeitwishes!Itisanenvironmentasrealastheworld. Itbecomesandisthetruth. Bookscanbebeatendownwithreason. Butwithallmyknowledgeandscepticism,Ihaveneverbeenabletoarguewithaone-hundred-piecesymphonyorchestra,fullcolour,threedimensions,andIbeinginandpartofthoseincredibleparlours. Asyousee,myparlourisnothingbutfourplasterwalls. Andhere—"Heheldouttwosmallrubberplugs."FormyearswhenIridethesubway-jets." 

           "Denham’sDentifrice;theytoilnot,neitherdotheyspin,"saidMontag,eyesshut. "Wheredowegofromhere?Wouldbookshelpus?" 

           "Onlyifthethirdnecessarythingcouldbegivenus. Numberone,asIsaid,qualityofinformation. Numbertwo:leisuretodigestit. Andnumberthree:therighttocarryoutactionsbasedonwhatwelearnfromtheinter-actionofthefirsttwo. AndIhardlythinkaveryoldmanandafiremanturnedsourcoulddomuchthislateinthegame..." 

           "Icangetbooks." 

           "You’rerunningarisk." 

           "That’sthegoodpartofdying;whenyou’venothingtolose,yourunanyriskyouwant." 

           "There,you’vesaidaninterestingthing,"laughedFaber,"withouthavingreadit!"