For a second, two seconds, they had exchanged an equivocal glance, and that was the end of the story. But even that was a memorable event, in the locked loneliness in which one had to live.

I watched him [a 'fat Russian agent'] with some interest, for it was the first time that I had seen a person whose profession was telling lies -- unless one counts journalists.

The war is waged against its own subjects and its object is not the victory...but to keep the very structure of society intact.

...the object of waging a war is always to be in a better position in which to wage another war.

Your worst enemy, he reflected, was your nervous system. At any moment the tension inside you was liable to translate itself into some visible symptom.

He had moved from thought to words, and now from words to actions.

Can you not understand that liberty is worth more than ribbons?