WHITE in Classic Quotes
Simple words can express big ideas - learn how great writers to make beautiful sentences with common words.
Quotes from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
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| Current Search - white in Fahrenheit 451 |
1 Her dress was white and it whispered.
2 He gazed, shaken, at that white hand.
3 Montag sat like a carved white stone.
4 He and the white plaster walls inside were much the same.
5 Faber sank into a chair, his face very white, his mouth trembling.
6 A book lit, almost obediently, like a white pigeon, in his hands, wings fluttering.
7 And then he came to the parlor where the great idiot monsters lay asleep with their white thoughts and their snowy dreams.
8 There was white in the flesh of his mouth and his cheeks and his hair was white and his eyes had faded, with white in the vague blueness there.
9 It seemed like a boatless river frozen there in the raw light of the high white arc lamps; you could drown trying to cross it, he felt; it was too wide, it was too open.
10 He ran on the white tiles up through the tunnels, ignoring the escalators, because he wanted to feel his feet move, arms swing, lungs clench, unclench, feel his throat go raw with air.
11 He could feel the Hound, like autumn, come cold and dry and swift, like a wind that didn't stir grass, that didn't jar windows or disturb leaf shadows on the white sidewalks as it passed.
12 Each time he made the turn, he saw only the white, unused, buckling sidewalk, with perhaps, on one night, something vanishing swiftly across a lawn before he could focus his eyes or speak.
13 And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the pumpsnake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked.
14 He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as she walked, and the infinitely small sound now, the white stir of her face turning when she discovered she was a moment away from a man who stood in the middle of the pavement waiting.
15 He felt her there, he saw her without opening his eyes, her hair burnt by chemicals to a brittle straw, her eyes with a kind of cataract unseen but suspect far behind the pupils, the reddened pouting lips, the body as thin as a praying mantis from dieting, and her flesh like white bacon.
16 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.
17 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, cows chewed grass and pigs sat in warm ponds at noon and dogs barked after white sheep on a hill.
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