“We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of on good rain and black loam.”

“Sit down, Montag. Watch. Delicately, like the petals of a flower. Light the first page, light the second page. Each becomes a black butterfly. Beautiful, eh?' ... There sat Beatty, perspiring gently, the floor littered with swarms of black moths that had died in a single storm.”

“I think the sun is a flower,That blooms for just one hour.”

“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.”

“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.”

“Why live? Life was its own answer. Life was the propagation of more life and the living of as good a life as possible.”

“You must live feverishly in a library. Colleges are not going to do any good unless you are raised and live in a library everyday of your life.”