(from the book Brave New World, written in 1931 by Aldous Huxley- I posted this on a blog of mine back in August 2005. I think it was my favorite book at the time)"The Savage interrupted him. 'But isn't it natural to feel there's a God?'
'...that's philosophy. People believe in God because they've been conditioned to believe in God.'
'But all the same,' insisted the Savage, 'it is natural to believe in God when you're alone- quite alone, in the night, thinking about death...'
'But people never are alone now,' said Mustapha Mond. 'We make them hate solitude; and we arrange their lives so that it's almost impossible for them ever to have it.'
'...What about self-denial, then? If you had a God, you'd have a reason for self-denial.'
'But industrial civilization is only possible when there's no self-denial. Self-indulgence up to the very limits imposed by hygiene and economics. Otherwise the wheels stop turning.'
'You'd have a reason for chastity!' said the Savage, blushing a little as he spoke the words.
'But chastity means passion, chastity means neurasthenia. And passion and neurasthenia mean instability. And instability means the end of civilization. You can't have a lasting civilization without plenty of pleasant vices.'
'But God's the reason for everything noble and fine and heroic. If you had a God...'
'My dear young friend,' said Mustapha Mond, 'civilization has absolutely no need of nobility or heroism. These things are symptoms of political inefficiency. In a properly organized society like ours, nobody has any opportunities for being noble or heroic. There aren't any wars nowadays. The greatest care is taken to prevent you from loving anyone too much. ...And if ever, by some unlucky chance, anything unpleasant should somehow happen, why, there's always soma to give you a holiday from the facts. 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...Christianity without tears- that's what soma is.'
'...What you need,' the Savage went on, 'is something with tears for a change. Nothing costs enough here...Isn't there something in living dangerously?'
'There's a great deal in it,' the Controller replied. 'Men and women must have their adrenals stimulated from time to time...it's one of the conditions of perfect health. That's why we've made the V.P.S. treatments compulsory.'
'What?' questioned the Savage, uncomprehending.
'Violent Passion Surrogate. Regularly once a month. We floor the whole system with adrenin. It's the complete physiological equivalent of fear and rage. All the tonic effects of murdering Desdemona and being murdered by Othello, without any of the inconveniences.'
'But I like the inconveniences.'
'We don't,' said the Controller. 'We prefer to do things comfortably.'
'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.'
'In fact,' said Mustapha Mond, 'you're claiming the right to be unhappy.'
'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.
Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. 'You're welcome,' he said."