Quotes About Society

The old man nodded. "Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.

My uncle says the architects got rid of the front porches because they didn't look well. But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn't want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong kind of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think.

The old man nodded. 'Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.

He had written a short story once called "The Pedestrian," about a man who is incarcerated by the police after he is stopped simply for walking.

I am not afraid of robots. I am afraid of people, people, people. I want them to remain human.

Obojeni ne vole Malog crnog Samba. Spali ga. Bijeli nisu oduševljeni ?i?a Tominom kolibom. Spali je. Netko je napisao knjigu o duhanu i raku plu?a? Proizvo?a?i cigareta tule? Spali knjigu. Vedrina, Montag. Mir, Montag. Iznesi svoju borbu van. Još bolje, u spalionicu. str. 65.

Evo ti, Montag! Nije do ovoga došlo odozgor, od vlade! Nije bilo nikakve naredbe, nikakve obznane, nikakve cenzure isprva, ne! Tehnologija, masovna eksploatacija i pritisak manjina polu?ili su cilj, Bogu hvala. Danas, zahvaljuju?i njima, sve vrijeme možeš biti sretan, dopušteno ti je ?itati stripove, dobre stare vjerske knjige ili stru?ne ?asopise. str. 63.

Solo resta mencionar una predicción que mi Bombero jefe, Beatty, hizo en 1953, en medio de mi libro. Se refería a la posibilidad de quemar libros sin cerillas ni fuego. Porque no hace falta quemar libros si el mundo empieza a llenarse de gente que no lee, que no aprende, que no sabe.

There are too many of us, he thought. There are billion of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and take your blood.

Bueno, al fin y al cabo, esta es la era del tejido desechable. Tratamos a la gente como si fueran pañuelos de papel. Los estrujamos después de utilizarlos, los tiramos, cogemos otro, nos sonamos, lo estrujamos, lo tiramos. Todo el mundo usa la ropa de todo el mundo.

School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?

He hung up his black beetle-colored helmet and shined it; he hung his flameproof jacket neatly; he showed luxuriously, and then, whistling, hands in pockets, walked across the upper floor of the fire station and fell down the hole.

I was considering the whole social atmosphere: the impact of TV and radio and the lack of education. I could see the coming event of schoolteachers not teaching reading anymore. The less they taught, the more you wouldn't need books.

But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books leveled down to a sort of pastepudding norm, do you follow me?

Patience, Montag. Let the war turn off the "families". Our civilization is flinging itself to pieces. Stand back from the centrifuge.

Aber natürlich. Wir müssen alle gleich sein. Nicht gleich und frei geboren, wie es in der Verfassung steht, sondern gleich gemacht. Jeder das Abbild aller anderen; dann sind alle glücklich, denn es gibt keine Berge, vor denen sie sich ducken, an denen sie sich messen müssen.

Ne bask?, ne uyar?, ne sansür baÅŸlang?çta hiçbiri yoktu. Bu oyunu teknoloji, kitlelerin sömürüsü, az?nl?klar?n bask?s? devam ettirdi.

Anything that's strange is no good to the average American.

The Toynbee Convector" was born because of my reaction to the bombardment of despair we so frequently find in our newspaper headlines and television reportage, and the feeling of imminent doom in a society that has triumphed over circumstances again and again, but fails to look back and realize where it has come from, and what it has achieved.

There are too many of us, he thought. There are billions of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out. Strangers come and take your blood.

Eminent, eminent people, one and all, members of the Society for the Prevention of Fantasy, advocators of the banishment of Halloween and Guy Fawkes, killers of bats, burners of books, bearers of torches; good clean citizens, every one, who had waited until the rough men had come up and buried the Martians and cleansed the cities and built the towns and repaired the highways and made everything safe.

Thomas Wolfe ate the world and vomited lava. Dickens dined at a different table every hour of his life. Molière, tasting society, turned to pick up his scalpel, as did Pope and Shaw. Everywhere you look in the literary cosmos, the great ones are busy loving and hating.

The bigger your market, Montag, the less you handle controversy

O mundo real é o terreno em que todo e qualquer grupo formula ou revoga leis como num grande jogo.