...passing Swiftly On Toward Further Darknesses, But

I Have My Favorite Cat, Who Is My Paperweight, On My Desk While I Am Writing.

It Takes Writing A Billion Bad Words Before You Get To The Good Ones.

Books Are Flesh-and-blood Ideas And Cry Out, Silently, When Put To The Torch.

For Everyone Nowadays Knows, Absolutely Is Certain, That Nothing Bad Will Ever Happen To Me. Others Die, I Go On. There Are No Consequences And No Responsibilities. Except That There Are. But Let's Not Talk About Them, Eh? By The Time The Consequences Catch Up To You, It's Too Late, Isn't It, Montag?

Hello!" He Said Hello And Then Said, "what Are You Up To Now?" "i'm Still Crazy. The Rain Feels Good. I Love To Walk In It. "i Don't Think I'd Like That," He Said. "you Might If You Tried." "i Never Have." She Licked Her Lips. "rain Even Tastes Good." "what Do You Do, Go Around Trying Everything Once?" He Asked. "sometimes Twice.