If there is hope, it lies in the proles.

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

The inflated style is itself a kind of euphemism. A mass of Latin words falls upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outlines and covering up all the details. The great enemy of clear language is insincerity.

One must choose between God and Man, and all "radicals" and "progressives", from the mildest liberal to the most extreme anarchist, have in effect chosen Man.

It was not the man's brain that was speaking; it was his larynx.

Power-worship blurs political judgment because it leads, almost unavoidably, to the belief that present trends will continue. Whoever is winning at the moment will always seem to be invincible.

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