1 It was the act of a silly damn snob.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright 2 We know the damn silly thing we just did.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright 3 Fool, Montag, fool, fool, oh God you silly fool.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand 4 It was pretty silly, quoting poetry around free and easy like that.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright 5 "Silly words, silly words, silly awful hurting words," said Mrs. Bowles.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand 6 There was a silly damn bird called a Phoenix back before Christ, every few hundred years he built a pyre and burned himself up.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright 7 Ladies, once a year, every fireman's allowed to bring one book home, from the old days, to show his family how silly it all was, how nervous that sort of thing can make you, how crazy.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand 8 There were people in the suction train but he held the book in his hands and the silly thought came to him, if you read fast and read all, maybe some of the sand will stay in the sieve.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 2: The Sieve and the Sand 9 We know all the damn silly things we've done for a thousand years and as long as we know that and always have it around where we can see it, some day we'll stop making the goddam funeral pyres and jumping in the middle of them.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright 10 For it would be the dying of an unknown, a street face, a newspaper image, and it was suddenly so very wrong that he had begun to cry, not at death but at the thought of not crying at death, a silly empty man near a silly empty woman, while the hungry snake made her still more empty.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 1: The Hearth and the Salamander 11 Montag stood looking in now at this queer house, made strange by the hour of the night, by murmuring neighbor voices, by littered glass, and there on the floor, their covers torn off and spilled out like swan feathers, the incredible books that looked so silly and really not worth bothering with, for these were nothing but black type and yellowed paper and raveled binding.
Fahrenheit 451 By Ray BradburyContext In PART 3: Burning Bright