1 The more men you've had, the more I love you.
2 But you could not have pure love or pure lust nowadays.
3 He had not stopped loving her; his feelings towards her had remained the same.
4 He felt no love for her, and he hardly even wondered what was happening to her.
5 Not love so much as eroticism was the enemy, inside marriage as well as outside it.
6 There was nothing left in them except sorrow for what they had done, and love of Big Brother.
7 If you loved someone, you loved him, and when you had nothing else to give, you still gave him love.
8 During the month of May there was only one further occasion on which they actually succeeded in making love.
9 When you make love you're using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don't give a damn for anything.
10 He wished above all that they had some place where they could be alone together without feeling the obligation to make love every time they met.
11 Not merely the love of one person but the animal instinct, the simple undifferentiated desire: that was the force that would tear the Party to pieces.
12 His function is to act as a focusing point for love, fear, and reverence, emotions which are more easily felt towards an individual than towards an organization.
13 Tragedy, he perceived, belonged to the ancient time, to a time when there was still privacy, love, and friendship, and when the members of a family stood by one another without needing to know the reason.
14 As soon as they arrived they would sprinkle everything with pepper bought on the black market, tear off their clothes, and make love with sweating bodies, then fall asleep and wake to find that the bugs had rallied and were massing for the counter-attack.
15 His mother's memory tore at his heart because she had died loving him, when he was too young and selfish to love her in return, and because somehow, he did not remember how, she had sacrificed herself to a conception of loyalty that was private and unalterable.
16 His mother's memory tore at his heart because she had died loving him, when he was too young and selfish to love her in return, and because somehow, he did not remember how, she had sacrificed herself to a conception of loyalty that was private and unalterable.
17 He wondered vaguely whether in the abolished past it had been a normal experience to lie in bed like this, in the cool of a summer evening, a man and a woman with no clothes on, making love when they chose, talking of what they chose, not feeling any compulsion to get up, simply lying there and listening to peaceful sounds outside.
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