“Ama gözyaşları gereklidir. Othello'nun söylediklerini hatırlamıyor musunuz? Böyle bir huzur gelecekse her fırtınanın ardından essin rüzgarlar ta ki ölümü uyandırana dek.”

“Önerme şudur: Beyin, sinir sistemi ve duyu organlarının işlevi aslında eleyicidir, üretici değil. Her insan, her an kendi başına gelenleri anımsamak ve evrenin her yerinde olan her şeyi algıama yeteneğine sahiptir. Beyin ve sinir sisteminin işlevi büyük oranda yararsız ve ilgisiz bu bilgi kütlesinin her yeri kaplamasından ve kafamızı karıştırmasından bizi korumaktadır, bunu da doğal olarak her an anımsayacağımız veya algılayacağımız şeylerin çoğunu dışarıda bırakarak ve uygulamada yararlı olabilecek görünenlere özel bir seçim sonucu çok az yer açarak yapar.”

“... sva ta težnja ljudi da budu više nego ljudski. Idiotska zato što nikada ne uspijeva. Nastojiš biti više nego ljudski, a uspijevaš postati samo manje nego ljudski... Hodamo po zemlji i nisu nam potrebna krila...”

“Lenina was left to face the horrors of Malpais unaided. They came crowding in on her thick and fast. The spectacle of two young women giving the breast to their babies made her blush and turn away her face.”

“There, on a low bed, the sheet flung back, dressed in a pair of pink one-piece zippyjamas, lay Lenina, fast asleep and so beautiful in the midst of her curls, so touchingly childish with her pink toes and her grave sleeping face, so trustful in the helplessness of her limp hands and melted limbs, that the tears came to his eyes.”

“Her cheeks were flushed. She caught hold of the Savage's arm and pressed it, limp, against her side. He looked down at her for a moment, pale, pained, desiring, and ashamed of his desire. He was not worthy, not... Their eyes for a moment met. What treasures hers promised! A queen's ransom of temperament. Hastily he looked away, disengaged his imprisoned arm. He was obscurely terrified lest she should cease to be something he could feel himself unworthy of.”

“The silence of the storm weighs heavilyOn their strained spirits: sometimes one will saySome trivial thing as though to ward awayMysterious powers, that imminently lieIn wait, with the strong exorcising graceOf everyday's futility. DesireBecomes upon a sudden a crystal fire,Defined and hard: If he could kiss her face,Could kiss her hair! As if by chance, her handBrushes on his ... Ah, can she understand?Or is she pedestalled above the touchOf his desire? He wonders: dare he seekFrom her that little, that infinitely much?And suddenly she kissed him on the cheek.”