O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!
Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery.
All conditioning aims at that: making people like their inescapable social destiny.
What man has joined, nature is powerless to put asunder.
But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.
Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly -- they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.
No social stability without individual stability.
We are not our own any more than what we possess is our own. We did not make ourselves, we cannot be supreme over ourselves. We are not our own masters.
And that," put in the Director sententiously, "that is the secret of happiness and virtue — liking what you've got to do. All conditioning aims at that: making people like their unescapable social destiny.
The more stitches, the less riches.
When the individual feels, the community reels.
And there's always soma to calm your anger, to reconcile you to your enemies, to make you patient and long-suffering. In the past, you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort and after years of hard moral training. Now, you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets, and there you are. Anybody can be virtuous now. You can carry at least half your morality about in a bottle. Christianity without tears-that's what soma is.
Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.
Universal happiness keeps the wheels steadily turning, truth and beauty can't.
We don't want to change. Every change is a menace to stability.
But every one belongs to every one else
All the advantages of Christianity and alcohol; none of their defects.
The greater a man's talents, the greater his power to lead astray.
If one's different, one's bound to be lonely.
"All right then," said the savage defiantly, I'm claiming the right to be unhappy." "Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat, the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind." There was a long silence. "I claim them all," said the Savage at last.
or simply:
