Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be unders... - George Orwell, 1984

"He was conscious of nothing except the blankness of the page in front of him, the itching of the skin above his ankle, the blaring of the music, and a slight booziness caused by the gin."

"At present nothing is possible except to extend the area of sanity little by little. We cannot act collectively. We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation."

"He was a lonely ghost uttering a truth that nobody would ever hear."

"The words kept coming back to him, statement of a mystical truth and a palpable absurdity."

"The best books... are those that tell you what you know already."