I’m rereading Fahrenheit 451 and am once again reminded of Bradbury’s poetic stride when it comes to language. Here’s a great passage in which our protagonist, Guy Montag, realizes just how messed up his wife, Mildred, is, as he recalls her suicide attempt and subsequent stomach-pumping by two technicians:
“…And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the the pump-snake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked. But that was another Mildred, that was a Mildred so deep inside of this one, and so bothered, so really bothered, that the two women had never met. He turned away…”
What a powerful turn of phrase! In particular the passage about the two women never meeting, just a great, poetic way of summarizing the power of denial in a person who is facing real problems.
Inezian's Notes. 
Reading Ray Bradbury, especially his short stories, is like watching a master craftsman at work.
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