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The immediate advantages of falsifying the past were obvious, but the ultimate motive was mysterious.
But the thought of being a lunatic did not greatly trouble him; the horror was that he might also be wrong.
The heresy of heresies was common sense.
ownlife, it was called, meaning individualism
Winston had a hallucination of himself smashing a pick-axe right into the middle of it.
“It was something in your face. I thought I’d take a chance. I’m good at spotting people who don’t belong.
“I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don’t want any virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones.”
not rebelling against its authority but simply evading it, as a rabbit dodges a dog.
Some kinds of failure are better than other kinds, that’s all.”
This is me, this is my hand, this is my leg, I’m real, I’m solid, I’m alive! Don’t you like this?”
In Oldspeak it is called, quite frankly, “reality control.”
“Sanity is not statistical,”
He thought: “If I could save Julia by doubling my own pain, would I do it? Yes, I would.” But that was merely an intellectual decision, taken because he knew that he ought to take it. He did not feel it.
