# data[].attributes.body
"That's right," Lily said, laughing too. "Like animals." Neither child knew what the word meant, exactly, but it was often used to describe someone uneducated or clumsy, someone who didn't fit in.

# data[].attributes.body
"Your father means that you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it has become almost obsolete."

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"The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book."

# data[].attributes.body
"He couldn't imagine what the thousands of pages contained. Could there be rules beyond the rules that governed the community? Could there be more descriptions of offices and factories and committees?"

# data[].attributes.body
"I'm just doing like I'm told, like always. You said get the money and I got it. I didn't really think of it myself."

# data[].attributes.body
"Ten million men mobilized," Faber's voice whispered in his other ear. "But say one million. It's happier."

# data[].attributes.body
"Leave your bicycles where they are. Instantly, obediently, Jonas had dropped his bike on its side on the path behind his family's dwelling. He had run indoors and stayed there, alone."

# data[].attributes.body
"There were a lot of colors, and one of them was called red. That's the one you are starting to see. Your friend Fiona has red hair -- quite distinctive actually... We've never completely mastered Sameness. I suppose the genetic scientists are still hard at work trying to work the kinks out. Hair like Fiona's must drive them crazy."

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"IT WAS A PLEASURE TO BURN
IT was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the
brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world,
the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing
all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history."

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"Frightening, isn't it? " The Giver said. Jonas chuckled. "Very frightening. I can't even imagine it. We really have to protect people from making the wrong choices." "It's safer." "Yes," Jonas agreed. "Much safer."

# data[].attributes.body
"No one mentioned such things; it was not a rule, but was considered rude to call attention to things that were unsettling or different about individuals."

# data[].attributes.body
“For the first time, he heard something that he knew to be music. He heard people singing. Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps, it was only an echo.”

# data[].attributes.body
“‘A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon.’”

# data[].attributes.body
"Jonas stared at the screen, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. The little twin lay motionless. His father was putting things away. Folding the blanket. Closing the cupboard. Once again, as he had on the playing field, he felt the choking sensation. Once again he saw the face of the light-haired, bloodied soldier as life left his eyes. The memory came back. 'He killed it! My father killed it!'"

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"She insisted that I continue, that I not spare her. She said it was her duty. And I knew, of course, that she was correct. I couldn’t bring myself to inflict physical pain on her. But I gave her anguish of many kinds. Poverty, and hunger, and terror. I had to, Jonas. It was my job. And she had been chosen."

# data[].attributes.body
"Its much the same. Everyone in the community has one-generation memories like those. But now you will be able to go back farther. Try. Just concentrate.

# data[].attributes.body
"And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for all the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them just the way he did. He was individual."

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"You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that."

# data[].attributes.body
"A minute later, Three White Cartoon Clowns chopped off each other's limbs to the accompaniment of immense incoming tides of laughter. Two minutes more and the room whipped out of town to the jet cars wildly circling an arena, bashing and backing up and bashing each other again. Montag saw a number of bodies fly in the air. 'Millie, did you see that?' 'I saw it, I saw it!"

# data[].attributes.body
"One of the children raised an imaginary rifle and made an attempt to destroy him with a firing noise. 'Pssheeew!' Then they were all silent, standing awkwardly, and the only sound was the sound of Jonas's shuddering breaths. He was struggling not to cry."

# data[].attributes.body
"He looked at that black line with disbelief, getting to his feet. ... A carful of children, all ages, God knew, from twelve to sixteen, out whistling, yelling, hurrahing, had seen a man... a man strolling, a rarity, and simply said, 'Let's get him,' not knowing he was the fugitive Mr. Montag, simply a, number of children out for a long night of roaring five or six hundred miles in a few moonlit hours, their
faces icy with wind, and coming home or not coming at dawn, alive or not alive, that made the
adventure.

# data[].attributes.body
"He remembered that upon waking, he had wanted to feel the Stirrings again. Then, in the same way that his own dwelling slipped away behind him as he rounded a corner on his bicycle, the dream slipped away from his thoughts. Very briefly, a little guiltily, he tried to grasp it back. But the feelings had disappeared. The Stirrings were gone.

# data[].attributes.body
"At dawn, the orderly, disciplined life he had always known would continue again, without him. The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life without color, pain, or past."

# data[].attributes.body
"Then he laughed a little. 'I know it's not important, what you wear. It doesn't matter. But --
'It's the choosing that's important, isn't it?' The Giver asked him."

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"If you don't want a house built, hide the nails and wood. If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none."