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Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 3: Burning Bright
2 And now he must begin his little walk.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 3: Burning Bright
3 I've had this little item ready for months.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand
4 That made you for a little while a drunkard.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand
5 She laughed an odd little laugh that went up and up.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander
6 He washed his hands and face and toweled himself dry, making little sound.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 3: Burning Bright
7 He walked toward the corner, thinking little at all about nothing in particular.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander
8 He lay in the high barn loft all night, listening to distant animals and insects and trees, the little motions and stirrings.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 3: Burning Bright
9 The little mosquito-delicate dancing hum in the air, the electrical murmur of a hidden wasp snug in its special pink warm nest.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander
10 And in her ears the little Seashells, the thimble radios tamped tight, and an electronic ocean of sound, of music and talk and music and talk coming in, coming in on the shore of her unsleeping mind.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander
11 Here was the single familiar thing, the magic charm he might need a little while, to touch, to feel beneath his feet, as he moved on into the bramble bushes and the lakes of smelling and feeling and touching, among the whispers and the blowing down of leaves.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 3: Burning Bright
12 Once he saw her shaking a walnut tree, once he saw her sitting on the lawn knitting a blue sweater, three or four times he found a bouquet of late flowers on his porch, or a handful of chestnuts in a little sack, or some autumn leaves neatly pinned to a sheet of white paper and thumbtacked to his door.
Fahrenheit 451By Ray Bradbury Context In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander