О дивный новый мир

           Itwasamasterlypieceofwork.Butonceyoubeganadmittingexplanationsintermsofpurpose–well,youdidn’tknowwhattheresultmightbe.Itwasthesortofideathatmighteasilydeconditionthemoreunsettledmindsamongthehighercastes–makethemlosetheirfaithinhappinessastheSovereignGoodandtaketobelieving,instead,thatthegoalwassomewherebeyond,somewhereoutsidethepresenthumansphere,thatthepurposeoflifewasnotthemaintenanceofwell-being,butsomeintensificationandrefiningofconsciousness,someenlargementofknowledge.Whichwas,theControllerreflected,quitepossiblytrue.Butnot,inthepresentcircumstance,admissible.Hepickeduphispenagain,andunderthewords"Nottobepublished"drewasecondline,thickerandblackerthanthefirst;thensighed,"Whatfunitwouldbe,"hethought,"ifonedidn’thavetothinkabouthappiness!"

           Withclosedeyes,hisfaceshiningwithrapture,Johnwassoftlydeclaimingtovacancy:

           "Oh!shedothteachthetorchestoburnbright.

           Itseemsshehangsuponthecheekofnight,

           LikearichjewelinanEthiop’sear;

           Beautytoorichforuse,forearthtoodear..."

           ThegoldenTlayshiningonLenina’sbosom.Sportively,theArch-Community-Songstercaughtholdofit,sportivelyhepulled,pulled."Ithink,"saidLeninasuddenly,breakingalongsilence,"I’dbettertakeacoupleofgrammesofsoma."

           Bernard,bythistime,wasfastasleepandsmilingattheprivateparadiseofhisdreams.Smiling,smiling.