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And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed—if all records told the same tale—then the lie passed into history and became truth.
they carried on a curious, intermittent conversation which flicked on and off like the beams of a lighthouse,
War is a way of shattering to pieces, or pouring into the stratosphere, or sinking in the depths of the sea, materials which might otherwise be used to make the masses too comfortable, and hence, in the long run, too intelligent.
Newspapers and history books were, of course, always colored and biased, but falsification of the kind that is practiced today would have been impossible.
“Is it your opinion, Winston, that the past has real existence?”
Does the past exist concretely, in space? Is there somewhere or other a place, a world of solid objects, where the past is still happening?”
You believe that reality is something objective, external, existing in its own right.
