George Orwell Quotes (283 Quotes)


    And even when they become discontented, as they sometimes did, their discontent led nowhere, because, being without general ideas, they could only focus it on petty specific grievances. The larger evils invariably escaped their notice.

    From the proletarians nothing is to be feared. Left to themselves, they will continue from generation to generation and from century to century, working, breeding, and dying, not only without any impulse to rebel, but without the power of grasping that the world could be other than it is.

    In principle a Party member had no spare time, and was never alone except in bed. It was assumed that when he was not working, eating, or sleeping he would be taking part in some kind of communal recreations; to do anything that suggested a taste for solitude, even to go for a walk by yourself, was always slightly dangerous. There was a word for it in Newspeak: ownlife, it was called, meaning individualism and eccentricity.

    Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes.

    Stupidity was as necessary as intelligence, and as difficult to attain.




    You would not make the act of submission which is the price of sanity.


    And yet, just for a moment, what almost frightening power had sounded in that cry from only a few hundred throats! Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?

    He felt as though he were wandering in the forests of the sea bottom, lost in a monstrous world where he himself was the monster. He was alone. The past was dead, the future was unimaginable


    One question at any rate was answered. Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes, he thought over and over as he writhed on the floor, clutching uselessly at his disabled left arm.

    That the Party did not seek power for its own ends, but only for the good of the majority. That it sought power because men in the mass were frail cowardly creatures who could not endure liberty or face the truth, and must be ruled over and systematically deceived by others who were stronger than themselves. That the choice for mankind lay between freedom and happiness, and that, for the great bulk of mankind, happiness was better.

    The room was a world, a pocket of the past where extinct animals could walk

    We know that no one ever seizes power with the intention of relinquishing it.

    Your worst enemy, he reflected, was your nervous system. At any moment the tension inside you was liable to translate itself into some visible symptom.


    Any kind of organized revolt against the party, which was bound to be a failure, struck her as stupid. The clever thing to do was to break the rules and stay alive all the same.

    He had the sensation of stepping into the dampness of a grave, and it was not much better because he had always known that the grave was there and waiting for him.

    It could not have been ten seconds, and yet it seemed a long time that their hands were clasped together. He had time to learn every detail of her hand.

    Partly it was a sort of hymn to the wisdom and majesty of Big Brother, but still more it was an act of self-hypnosis, a deliberate drowning of consciousness by means of rhythmic noise.

    The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better.

    The secret of rulership is to combine a belief in one's own infallibility with a power to learn from past mistakes.

    We shall abolish the orgasm. Our neurologists are at work upon it now.


    Applied to an opponent, it is abuse, applied to someone you agree with, it is praise.

    He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.

    It had never occurred to him that the body of a woman of fifty, blown up to monstrous dimensions by childbearing, then hardened, roughened by work til it was coarse in the grain like an overripe turnip, could be beautiful. But is was so, and after all, he thought, why not?

    Perhaps it is only when people are somewhere near the starvation level that they have anything to sing about.


    The two aims of the Party are to conquer the whole surface of the earth and to extinguish once and for all the possiblity of independent thought. There are therefore two great problems which the Party is concerned to solve. One is how to discover against his will what another human being is thinking and the other is how to kill several hundred million people in a few seconds without giving warning beforehand.


    Between pigs and human beings there was not and there need not be any clash of interest whatsoever.

    But the thought of being a lunatic did not greatly trouble him; the horror was that he might also be wrong.

    He wondered vaguely how many others like here there might be in the younger generation, people who had grown up in the world of the Revolution, knowing nothing else, accepting the Party as something unalterable, like the sky, not rebelling against its authority but simply evading it, as a rabbit dodges a dog.

    It is deliberate policy to keep even the favoured groups somewhere near the brink of hardship, because a general state of scarcity increases the importance of small privileges and thus magnifies the distinction between one group and another.



    The urge to shout filthy words at the top of his voice was as strong as ever.


    Clover was a stout motherly mare approaching middle life, who had never quite got her figure back after her fourth foal.

    But you could not have pure love or pure lust nowadays. No emotion was pure, because everything was mixed up with fear and hatred. Their embrace had been a battle, the climax a victory. It was a blow struck against the Party. It was a political act.

    His whole mind and body seemed to be afflicted with an unbearable sensitivity, a sort of transparency, which made every movement, every sound, every contact, every word that he had to speak or listen to, an agony. Even in sleep he could not altogether escape form her image.

    It was like struggling with some physical task, something which one had the right to refuse and which one was nevertheless neurotically anxious to accomplish.


    The enemy of the moment always represented absolute evil, and it followed that any past or future agreement with him was impossible.



    D?s,ar?daki hayvanlar, bir domuzlar?n yüzlerine, bir insanlar?n yüzlerine bak?yor, ama birbirlerinden ay?rt edemiyorlard?.


    More George Orwell Quotations (Based on Topics)


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