«1984» adlı sesli kitaptan alıntılar, sayfa 98
Следующее поколение меня не интересует, милый, меня интересуем мы.
Худший враг, заметил он, наши собственные нервы.
Он почувствовал себя одиноким призраком, говорящим правду, которую никто никогда не услышит.
Бежать было некуда. У вас не оставалось ничего своего, разве что несколько кубических сантиметров внутри черепной коробки.
Министерство любви внушало страх.
Чувства ее были ее чувствами, их нельзя было изменить извне.
Чтобы видеть то, что происходит прямо перед вашим носом, необходимо отчаянно бороться.
... разумом сдался, но душу рассчитывал сохранить в неприкосновенности.
Это был щуплый человек в белом пиджаке, черноволосый, с ромбовидным и совершенно непроницательным лицом - возможно, китаец.
Но мир сам — всего лишь пылинка. А человек мал... беспомощен!
He shut his eyes and pressed his fingers against them, trying to squeeze out the vision that kept recurring. He had an almost overwhelming temptation to shout a string of filthy words at the top of his voice. Or to bang his head against the wall, to kick over the table, and hurl the inkpot through the window – to do any violent or noisy or painful thing that might black out the memory that was tormenting him.
They were born, they grew up in the gutters, they went to work at twelve, they passed through a brief blossoming-period of beauty and sexual desire, they married at twenty, they were middle-aged at thirty, they died, for the most part, at sixty. Heavy physical work, the care of home and children, petty quarrels with neighbours, films, football, beer, and above all, gambling, filled up the horizon of their minds. To keep them in control was not difficult. A few agents of the Thought Police moved always among them, spreading false rumours and marking down and eliminating the few individuals who were judged capable of becoming dangerous; but no attempt was made to indoctrinate them with the ideology of the Party. It was not desirable that the proles should have strong political feelings. All that was required of them was a primitive patriotism which could be appealed to whenever it was necessary to make them accept longer working-hours or shorter rations. And even when they became discontented, as they sometimes did, their discontent led nowhere, because being without general ideas, they could only focus it on petty specific grievances. The larger evils invariably escaped their notice. The great majority of proles did not even have telescreens in their homes. Even the civil police interfered with them very little. There was a vast amount of criminality in London, a whole world-within-a-world of thieves, bandits, prostitutes, drug-peddlers, and racketeers of every description; but since it all happened among the proles themselves, it was of no importance. In all questions of morals they were allowed to follow their ancestral code. The sexual puritanism of the Party was not imposed upon them. Promiscuity went unpunished, divorce was permitted. For that matter, even religious worship would have been permitted if the proles had shown any sign of needing or wanting it. They were beneath suspicion. As the Party slogan put it: 'Proles and animals are free.'
