Julia

by Sandra Newman

One hates when the good within one identifies evil. Hate is goodness in operation. And without operation, without action, goodness is the mere corpse of goodness.

He hated more unselfishly and devotedly than most can love.

The piano alone received the wasteful flood of electric light, light someone somewhere had worked to produce. One saw the hours of a stranger’s life pouring uselessly over the silent piano.

True Vegetarianism—which meant not only eschewing meat but exterminating all animals for their obscene lives.

Twenty-seven years it had taken her to learn what kind of smile was hidden behind the black moustache. But it was all right, everything was all right. She had won the victory over herself at last. She hated Big Brother.