1984

           Andyethecouldnotkeepsilent. Feebly,withoutarguments,withnothingtosupporthimexcepthisinarticulatehorrorofwhatO’Brienhadsaid,hereturnedtotheattack. 

           ‘Idon’tknow—Idon’tcare. Somehowyouwillfail. Somethingwilldefeatyou. Lifewilldefeatyou.’ 

           ‘Wecontrollife,Winston,atallitslevels. Youareimaginingthatthereissomethingcalledhumannaturewhichwillbeoutragedbywhatwedoandwillturnagainstus. Butwecreatehumannature. Menareinfinitelymalleable. Orperhapsyouhavereturnedtoyouroldideathattheproletariansortheslaveswillariseandoverthrowus. Putitoutofyourmind. Theyarehelpless,liketheanimals. HumanityistheParty. Theothersareoutside—irrelevant.’ 

           ‘Idon’tcare. Intheendtheywillbeatyou. Soonerorlatertheywillseeyouforwhatyouare,andthentheywilltearyoutopieces.’ 

           ‘Doyouseeanyevidencethatthatishappening? Oranyreasonwhyitshould?’ 

           ‘No.Ibelieveit. IKNOWthatyouwillfail. Thereissomethingintheuniverse—Idon’tknow,somespirit,someprinciple—thatyouwillneverovercome.’ 

           ‘DoyoubelieveinGod,Winston?’ 

           ‘No.’ 

           ‘Thenwhatisit,thisprinciplethatwilldefeatus?’