"Bet I know something else you don’t. There’s dew on the grass in the morning."

Clarise is one of my favorite characters in literature. She is so quirky and weird compared to the brainwashed people she is surrounded by, but nothing she says would be particularly strange in our world...or so it seems.
The thing I love about Ray Bradbury is the same reason why his work terrifies me. He predicted the worst most dystopian technologically reliant future, and it mirrors our reality so closely.
Dew on morning grass. How could a grown man not know about it? At one point I thought Montag was so ignorant, but then realization dawned on me. I can't remember the last time I saw dew on morning grass. Bradbury holds a mirror to his readers. He shows us a narrator and convinces us to judge and mock and fear and eventually look at ourselves. He shows us the warped scars that the modern world has given us, that we have given to one another. We are not Clarisse. We are the firemen, destroying a truth because it is unpleasant. We are Millie, listening to walls and waiting for another device to drown out our consciousness and shame.