1984

           Thatistheworldthatwearepreparing,Winston.Aworldofvictoryaftervictory,triumphaftertriumphaftertriumph:anendlesspressing,pressing,pressinguponthenerveofpower. Youarebeginning,Icansee,torealizewhatthatworldwillbelike. Butintheendyouwilldomorethanunderstandit.Youwillacceptit,welcomeit,becomepartofit.’ 

           Winstonhadrecoveredhimselfsufficientlytospeak. ‘Youcan’t!’hesaidweakly. 

           ‘Whatdoyoumeanbythatremark,Winston?’ 

           ‘Youcouldnotcreatesuchaworldasyouhavejustdescribed.Itisadream.Itisimpossible.’ 

           ‘Why?’ 

           ‘Itisimpossibletofoundacivilizationonfearandhatredandcruelty.Itwouldneverendure.’ 

           ‘Whynot?’ 

           ‘Itwouldhavenovitality.Itwoulddisintegrate.Itwouldcommitsuicide.’ 

           ‘Nonsense.Youareundertheimpressionthathatredismoreexhaustingthanlove.Whyshoulditbe? Andifitwere,whatdifferencewouldthatmake? Supposethatwechoosetowearourselvesoutfaster. Supposethatwequickenthetempoofhumanlifetillmenaresenileatthirty.Stillwhatdifferencewoulditmake? Canyounotunderstandthatthedeathoftheindividualisnotdeath?Thepartyisimmortal.’ 

           Asusual,thevoicehadbatteredWinstonintohelplessness. MoreoverhewasindreadthatifhepersistedinhisdisagreementO’Brienwouldtwistthedialagain.