In all the useful arts the world is either standing still or going backwards.

There are ten abilities, but no one has more than one—except me. I’m different that way. I have…more.”
“You mean you have all ten.”
I shrug my shoulders and nod.
“And you say you’re different, huh?”
“I am. I’m the only one—at least the first one,” I add, remembering what Sir Theo suggested about me being a more evolved species. A smile drifts to my mouth but fades when I notice Max staring at me with such disinterest that I become embarrassed.
“I see. So is it just you who likes to think you’re special or all the teens in your world?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Forget it. I guess I’m just trying to figure you out.

If the Party could thrust its hand into the past and say of this or that event, it never happened—that, surely, was more terrifying than mere torture and death.

Science fiction is not quirky anymore; we live in a futuristic world now.

In the past the need for a hierarchal form of society has been the doctrine specifically of the High. It had been preached by kings and aristocrats and the priests, lawyers and the like who were parasitical upon them, and it had generally been softened by promises of an imaginary world beyond the grave.

The ruling power is always faced with the question, ‘In such and such circumstances, what would you do?’, whereas the opposition is not obliged to take responsibility or make any real decisions.