In vast state incubators, rows upon rows of gravid bottles will supply the world with the population it requires.
Wild inside; raging, writhing—yes, “writhing” was the word, writhing with desire. But outwardly he was hopelessly tame; outwardly—baa, baa, baa.
Eccentricity…It’s the justification of all aristocracies. It justifies leisured classes and inherited wealth and privilege and endowments and all the other injustices of that sort.
Poverty, ignorance, and a limited range of materials produced the hovel, which possesses undoubtedly, in suitable surroundings, its own ‘as it were titanic’ charm. We now employ our wealth, our technical knowledge, our rich variety of materials for the purpose of building millions of imitation hovels in totally unsuitable surroundings. Could imbecility go further?
When he’s reached pure abstraction he’s going to take up architecture. He says it’s more intellectual than painting.
We’re too sane; we’re merely reasonable. We lack the human touch, the compelling enthusiastic mania … For the madman appeals to what is fundamental, to passion and the instincts; the philosophers to what is superficial and supererogatory—reason.
Crome Yellow by Aldous Huxley