Fahrenheit 451

by Ray Bradbury

“Time has fallen asleep in the afternoon sunshine.”

‘We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out,’ ” said Beatty. Stoneman glanced over at the Captain, as did Montag, startled. Beatty rubbed his chin. “A man named Latimer said that to a man named Nicholas Ridley, as they were being burnt alive at Oxford, for heresy, on October 16, 1555.”

And suddenly she was so strange he couldn’t believe he knew her at all. He was in someone else’s house, like those other jokes people told of the gentleman, drunk, coming home late late at night, unlocking the wrong door, entering a wrong room, and bedding with a stranger and getting up early and going to work and neither of them the wiser. “Millie . . . ?” he whispered. “What?” “I didn’t mean to startle you. What I want to know is . . .” “Well?” “When did we meet? And where?” “When did we meet for what?” she asked. “I mean—originally.” He knew she must be frowning in the dark. He clarified it. “The first time we ever met, where was it, and when?” “Why, it was at—” She stopped. “I don’t know,” she said.

Brainwashed? what's going on here? why can't they remember important details. Why does Mildred eavesdrop on the ceiling?

touched—bottom—never—never—quite—no not quite—touched—bottom . . . and you fell so fast you didn’t touch the sides either . . . never . . . quite . . . touched . . . anything.

interesting writing device but I don't enjoy it very much. an epimone or polyptoton, I don't like the literary device being used here. it makes me cringe

The bigger your market, Montag, the less you handle controversy, remember that! All the minor minor minorities with their navels to be kept clean. Authors, full of evil thoughts, lock up your typewriters. They did. Magazines became a nice blend of vanilla tapioca.

commentary on political correctness

He remembered a farm he had visited when he was very young, one of the rare few times he discovered that somewhere behind the seven veils of unreality, beyond the walls of parlors and beyond the tin moat of the city,

contrast; comparison between nature & tech, our disconnect from it

Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.

The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.”

Granger's memorable passage

And on either side of the river was there a tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month; And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

wonder why he chose this quote to say when they reach the city; need further context from Judaism