Fahrenheit 451
Storyboard Text
- 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 bringdown the tatters and charcoal ruins of history.
- 451
- With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next.
- He hung up his black-beetle-colored helmet and shined it, he hung his flameproof jacket neatly; he showered luxuriously...
- ...and then,whistling, hands in pockets, walked across the upper floor of the firestation and fell down the hole.
- 1 inch
- At the last moment, when disaster seemed positive, he pulled his hands from his pockets and broke his fall by grasping the pole. He slid to a squeaking halt, the heels one inch from the concrete floor downstairs.
- He walked out of the fire station and along the midnight street toward the subway where the silent, air-propelled train slid soundlessly down its lubricated flue in the earth and let him out with a great puff of warm air to the cream-tiled escalator rising to the suburb.
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