Man serves the interests of no creature except himself.

At fifty everyone has the face he deserves.

No one can look back on his schooldays and say with truth that they were altogether unhappy.

Truth becomes untruth if uttered by your enemy

I sometimes think that the price of liberty is not so much eternal vigilance as eternal dirt.

If one harbours anywhere in one's mind a nationalistic loyalty or hatred, certain facts, although in a sense known to be true, are inadmissible.

We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone. But how far away that future may be, there is no knowing. It might be a thousand years. At present nothing is possible except to extend the area of sanity little by little. We cannot act collectively. We can only spread our knowledge outwards from individual to individual, generation after generation. In the face of the Thought Police there is no other way.