The most stirring battle-poem in English is about a brigade of cavalry which charged in the wrong direction.

In Moulmein, in lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people - the only time in my life that I have been important enough for this to happen to me.

We control matter because we control the mind. Reality is inside the skull.

It was not by making yourself heard but by staying sane that you carried on the human heritage.

Hunger reduces one to an utterly spineless, brainless condition, more like the after-effects of influenza than anything else. It is as though all one's blood had been pumped out and lukewarm water substituted.

In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defense of the indefensible... Thus, political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging, and sheer cloudy vagueness... Political language [is] designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable.

A human being is primarily a bag for putting food into.