100+ A Clockwork Orange Quotes From The Story Of A Dystopian Crime Thriller

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A Clockwork Orange Famous Quotes

These A Clockwork Orangequotes are from the story of a dystopian crime thriller. There are so many A Clockwork Orange quotes that can help you when you are tired of being in the same old rut, and all you need is a little push, a little inspiration, a smile on the face, change of mood, bring you out of the banality of life, make you laugh a little, or may even make you cry a bit, and these A Clockwork Orange quotes exists just do that.

A Clockwork Orange is a 1971 tragic crime movie adjusted, delivered, and coordinated by Stanley Kubrick, in view of Anthony Burgess’ epic A Clockwork Orange. A Clockwork Orange utilizes irritating, vicious pictures to remark on psychiatry, adolescent misconduct, youth packs, and other social, political, and financial subjects in a tragic not so distant future Britain. The story of A Clockwork Orange revolves around Alex, the character played by Malcolm McDowell, the focal character, who is an appealing, standoffish reprobate whose interests incorporate traditional music, counting Beethoven, submitting assault, and what is named ‘ultra-brutality’. He drives a little pack of hooligans, Pete played by Michael Tarn, Georgie played by James Marcus, and Dim played by Warren Clarke, whom he calls his droogs, from the Russian word, ‘companion’, ‘amigo’. A Clockwork Orange accounts the awful crime binge of his posse, his catch, and endeavored recovery by means of a trial mental molding system, the ‘Ludovico Technique’ advanced by the Minister of the Interior Anthony Sharp. Alex describes a large portion of the film in Nadsat, a cracked juvenile slang made out of Slavic, particularly Russian, English, and Cockney rhyming slang.

The soundtrack to A Clockwork Orange highlights for the most part old style music choices and Moog synthesizer structures by Wendy Carlos. The work of art for the notice of A Clockwork Orange was made by Philip Castle with the format by architect Bill Gold. In a cutting edge Britain, Alex DeLarge is the pioneer of a group of ‘droogs’, which incorporate Georgie, Dim, and Pete. One night, subsequent to getting inebriated on medication loaded ‘milk-in addition to’, they take part in a night of ‘ultra-viciousness’, which incorporates a battle with an opponent pack driven by Billyboy. They drive to the national home of essayist F. Alexander and beat him to the point of devastating him forever. Alex then assaults Alexander’s better half while singing ‘Singin’ in the Rain’. The following day, while truant from school, Alex is drawn nearer by his post-trial agent Mr. P.R. Deltoid, who knows about Alex’s exercises and alerts him. Alex’s droogs express discontent with trivial wrongdoing and need greater fairness and high return burglaries, yet Alex attests his position by assaulting them. Afterward, Alex attacks the home of a rich ‘feline woman’ and clubs her with a phallic model while his droogs stay outside. On hearing alarms, Alex attempts to escape yet Dim crushes a jug in his face, shocking him and leaving him to be captured by the police. With Alex in guardianship, Mr. Deltoid boasts that the lady he assaulted kicked the bucket, making Alex a killer. He is condemned to fourteen years in jail.

We have dug up these A Clockwork Orange quotes from the depths of the internet and brought together best of these sayings in a single article. This post is probably the biggest database of A Clockwork Orange Sayings in a single place. These famous A Clockwork Orange quotes have the power to change your life by giving a novel outlook about the way you observe different aspects of your life. Hence, these popular A Clockwork Orange quotes should be read with caution and proper understanding of the context. Here are tons of A Clockwork Orange quotes that will open a treasure chest of Wisdom and experiences: –

“Is it better for a man to have chosen evil than to have good imposed upon him?” 

A Clockwork Orange Quotes

“We can destroy what we have written, but we cannot unwrite it.” 

A Clockwork Orange Famous Quotes

“When a man cannot choose, he ceases to be a man.” 

A Clockwork Orange Popular Quotes

“But what I do I do because I like to do.” 

A Clockwork Orange Best Quotes

“I see what is right and approve, but I do what is wrong.” 

A Clockwork Orange Sayings

“The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”

“Oh it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh. The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise silverflamed, and there by the door the timps rolling through my guts and out again crunched like candy thunder. Oh, it was wonder of wonders. And then, a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal, or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now, came the violin solo above all the other strings, and those strings were like a cage of silk round my bed. Then flute and oboe bored, like worms of like platinum, into the thick thick toffee gold and silver. I was in such bliss, my brothers.”

“Goodness is something chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.”

“It’s funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you watch them on a screen.”

“Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses to be bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?”

“If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange—meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with colour and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil.”

“What’s it going to be then, eh?”

“It is as inhuman to be totally good as it is to be totally evil.”

“This must be a real horrorshow film if you’re so keen on my viddying it.”

“A perverse nature can be stimulated by anything. Any book can be used as a pornographic instrument, even a great work of literature if the mind that so uses it is off-balance. I once found a small boy masturbating in the presence of the Victorian steel-engraving in a family Bible.”

“Then, brothers, it came. Oh, bliss, bliss and heaven. I lay all nagoy to the ceiling, my gulliver on my rookers on the pillow, glazzies closed, rot open in bliss, slooshying the sluice of lovely sounds. Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh.”

“Great Music, it said, and Great Poetry would like quieten Modern Youth down and make Modern Youth more Civilized. Civilized my syphilised yarbles.”

“It may not be nice to be good, little 6655321. It may be horrible to be good. And when I say that to you I realize how self-contradictory that sounds. I know I shall have many sleepless nights about this. What does God want? Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him? Deep and hard questions, little 6655321.”

“I said, smiling very wide and droogie: ‘Well, if it isn’t fat stinking billygoat Billyboy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou.’ And then we started.”

“Civilised my syphilised yarbles.”

“The next morning I woke up at oh eight oh oh hours, my brothers, and as I still felt shagged and fagged and fashed and bashed and my glazzies were stuck together real horrorshow with sleepglue, I thought I would not go to school.”

“Where do I come into all of this? Am I just some animal or dog?’ And that started them off govoreeting real loud and throwing slovos at me. So I creeched louder still, creeching: ‘Am I just to be like a clockwork orange?”

“I was always on my oddy knocky.”

“Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?”

“It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. ”

“They don’t go into what is the cause of goodness, so why of the other shop? If lewdies are good that’s because they like it, and I wouldn’t ever interfere with their pleasures, and so of the other shop. And I was patronizing the other shop. More, badness is of the self, the one, the you or me on our oddy knockies, and that self is made by old Bog or God and is his great pride and radosty. But the not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self. And is not our modern history, my brothers, the story of the brave malenky selves fighting these big machines?”

“That’s what it’s going to be then, brothers, as I come to the like end of this tale. You have been everywhere with your little droog Alex, suffering with him, and you have viddied some of the most grahzny bratchnies old Bog ever made, all on to your old droog Alex. And all it was was that I was young. But now as I end this story, brothers, I am not young, not no longer, oh no. Alex like groweth up, oh yes.

But where I itty now, O my brothers, is all on my oddy knocky, where you cannot go. Tomorrow is all like sweet flowers and the turning young earth and the stars and the old Luna up there and your old droog Alex all on his oddy knocky seeking like a mate. And all that cal. A terrible grahzny vonny world, really, O my brothers. And so farewell from your little droog. And to all others in this story profound shooms of lipmusic brrrrrr. And they can kiss my sharries. But you, O my brothers, remember sometimes thy little Alex that was. Amen. And all that call.”

“Suddenly, I viddied what I had to do, and what I had wanted to do, and that was to do myself in; to snuff it, to blast off for ever out of this wicked, cruel world. One moment of pain perhaps and, then, sleep forever, and ever and ever.”

“But where I itty now, O my brothers, is all on my oddy knocky, where you cannot go. Tomorrow is all like sweet flowers and the turning vonny earth and the stars and the old Luna up there. … And all that cal.”

“What I do I do because I like to do.”

“Senseless violence is a prerogative of youth, which has much energy but little talent for the constructive.”

“I was cured all right.”

“To devastate is easier and more spectacular than to create.”

“How wicked, my brothers, innocent milk must always seem to me now.”

“Eat this sweetish segment or spit it out. You are free.”

“There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up rassoodocks what to do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard though dry. The Korova Milkbar was a milk-plus mesto, and you may, O my brothers, have forgotten what these mestos were like, things changing so skorry these days, and everybody very quick to forget, newspapers not being read much neither.”

“You were not put on this Earth just to get in touch with god”

“And I thought to myself, Hell and blast you all, if all you bastards are on the side of Good then I’m glad I belong to the other shop.”

“It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now, to give it the perfect ending, was a little of the Ludwig Van.”

“I viddied that thinking is for the gloopy ones and that the oomny ones use like inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid.”

“Oh bliss, bliss and heaven… Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh… And then, a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal, or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now… I knew such lovely pictures – Alex”

“Youth is only being in a way like it might be an animal. No, it is not just like being an animal so much as being like one of these malenky toys you viddy being sold in the streets, like little chellovecks made out of tin and with a spring inside and then a winding handle on the outside and you wind it up grrr grrr grrr and off it itties, like walking, O my brothers. But it itties in a straight line and bangs straight into things bang bang and it cannot help what it is doing. Being young is like being like one of these malenky machines.”

“I am everyone’s friend,’I said.’Except to my enemies.”

“There was no trust anywhere in the world, O my brothers, the way I could see it.”

“You needn’t take it any further, sir. You’ve proved to me that all this ultraviolence and killing is wrong, wrong, and terribly wrong. I’ve learned me lesson, sir. I’ve seen now what I’ve never seen before. I’m cured! Praise Bog! I’m cured!

I was cured alright.”

“Then I looked at its top sheet, and there was the name – A CLOCKWORK ORANGE – and I said: ‘That’s a fair gloopy title. Who ever heard of a clockwork orange?’ Then I read a malenky bit out loud in a sort of very high preaching goloss: ‘—The attempt to impose upon man, a creature of growth and capable of sweetness, to ooze juicily at the last round the bearded lips of God, to attempt to impose, I say, laws and conditions appropriate to a mechanical creation, against this I raise my swordpen—”

“Well well well. What makes, bratty. What gives, this fine bright

middle of the nochy?” He said:

“I’ll give you just ten seconds to wipe that stupid grin off of your

face. Then I want you to listen.”

“Well, what?” I said, smecking. “Are you not satisfied with beating me

near to death and having me spat upon and making me confess to crimes for

hours on end and then shoving me among bezoomnies and vonny perverts in that

grahzny cell? Have you some new torture for me, you bratchny?”

“It’ll be your own torture,” he said, serious. “I hope to God it’ll

torture you to madness.”

And then, before he told me, I knew what it was. The old ptitsa who had all the kots and koshkas had passed on to a better world in one of the city hospitals. I’d cracked her a bit too hard, like. Well, well, that was everything. I thought of all those kots and koshkas mewling for moloko and getting none, not any more from their starry forella of a mistress. That was everything. I’d done the lot, now and me still only fifteen.”

“The essential intention is the real sin. A man who cannot choose ceases to be a man.”

“Then there was like quiet and we were full of like hate, so smashed what was left to be smashed.”

“As we walked along the flatblock marina, I was calm on the outside, but thinking all the time – Now it was to be Georgie the general, saying what we should do and what not to do, and Dim as his mindless greeding bulldog. But suddenly, I viddied that thinking was for the gloopy ones, and that the oomny ones use like, inspiration and what Bog sends. Now it was lovely music that came into my aid. There was a window open with the stereo on, and I viddied right at once what to do.”

“The twenty-first chapter gives the novel the quality of genuine fiction, an art founded on the principle that human beings change. There is, in fact, not much point in writing a novel unless you can show the possibility of moral transformation, or an increase in wisdom, operating in your chief character or characters. Even trashy bestsellers show people changing. When a fictional work fails to show change, when it merely indicates that human character is set, stony, unregenerable, then you are out of the field of the novel and into that of the fable or the allegory.”

“Well, if they would not go to school they must still have their education. And education they had had.”

“There is, in fact, not much point in writing a novel unless you can show the possibility of moral transformation, or an increase in wisdom, operating in your chief character or characters. Even trashy bestsellers show people changing. When a fictional work fails to show change, when it merely indicates that human character is set, stony, unregenerable, then you are out of field of the novel and into that of the fable or the allegory.

 

– from the introduction of the 1986 Norton edition”

“There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.”

“It seems priggish or pollyannaish to deny that my intention in writing the work was to titillate the nastier propensities of my readers. My own healthy inheritance of original sin comes out in the book and I enjoyed raping and ripping by proxy. It is the novelist’s innate cowardice that makes him depute to imaginary personalities the sins that he is too cautious to commit for himself.”

“And those hard slovos, brothers, were like the beginning of my freedom.”

“You got shook and shook till there was nothing left. You lost your name and your body and your self and you just didn’t care.”

“and you were sort of hypnotized by your boot or shoe or a finger-nail as it might be,and at the same time you were sort of picked up by the old scruff and shook like you might be a cat.you got shook and shook till there was nothing left.you lost your name and your body and your self and you just didn’t care,and you waited until your boot or finger-nail got yellow,then yellower and yellower all the time.then the lights started cracking like atomics and the boot or finger-nail or,as it might be,a bit of dirt on your trouser-bottom turned into a big big big mesto,bigger than the whole world,and you were just going to get introduced to old Bog or God when it was all over.you came back to here and now whimpering sort of,with your rot all squaring up for a boohoohoo.now that’s very nice but very cowardly.you were not put on this earth just to get in touch with God.that sort of thing could sap all the strength and the goodness out of a chelloveck.”

“That’s the law, son. But you were never much of a one for following the law.”

“Then I noticed, in all my pain and sickness,what music it was that like crackled and boomed on the

sound-track, and it was Ludwig van, the last movement of the

Fifth Symphony, and I creeched like bezoomny at that. “Stop!”

I creeched. “Stop, you grahzny disgusting sods. It’s a sin, that’s

what it is, a filthy unforgivable sin, you bratchnies!”

“We were all feeling that bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure.”

“And what, brothers, I had to escape into sleep from then was the horrible and wrong feeling that it was better to get the hit than give it. If that veck had stayed I might even have like presented the other cheek.”

“Feeling very surprised too at myself. I knew what was happening, O my brothers. I was like growing up.”

“Then we slooshied.”

“Goodbye, goodbye, may Bog forgive you for a ruined life.” Then I got on to the sill, the music blasting away to my left, and I shut my glazzies and felt the cold wind on my listo, then I jumped.”

“Badness is of the self, the one, the you or me on our oddy knockies, and that self is made by old Bog or God and is his great pride and radosty. But the not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self.”

“The not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self.”

“Ah, 6655321, think on the divine suffering. Meditate on that, my boy.’ And all the time he had this rich manny von of Scotch on him, and then he went off to his little cantora to peet some more. So I read all about the scourging and the crowning with thorns and then the cross veshch and all that cal, and I viddied better that there was something in it. While the stereo played bits of lovely Bach I closed my glazzies and viddied myself helping in and even taking charge of the tolchocking and the nailing in, being dressed in a like toga that was the heighth of Roman fashion. So being in Staja 84F was not all that wasted, and the Governor himself was very pleased to hear that I had taken to like Religion, and that was where I had my hopes.”

“Of course it was horrible,’ smiled Dr. Branom. ‘Violence is a very horrible thing. That’s what you’re learning now. Your body is learning it.”

“The question is whether such a technique can really make a man good. Goodness comes from within, 6655321. Goodness is something chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.”

“The thrill of theft, of violence, the urge to live easy – is it worth it when we have undeniable proof, yes, yes, incontrovertible evidence that hell exists?”

“Never,’ I said. ‘One can die but once. Dim died before he was born. That red red krovvy will soon stop.”

“A Clockwork Orange is too didactic to be artistic. It is not the novelist’s job to preach; it is his job to show.”

“Each man kills the thing he loves”

“Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways.”

“And, my brothers, it was real satisfaction to me to waltz-left two three, right two three-and carve left cheeky and right cheeky, so that like two curtains of blood seemed to pour out at the same time, one on either side of his fat filthy oily snout in the winter starlight.”

“The heresy of an age of reason,’ or some such slovos [words]. ‘I see what is right and approve, but I do what is wrong.”

“Ser bueno puede llegar a ser algo horrible.”

“Self-interest, fear of physical pain, drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.”

“Oh, it was wonder of wonders. And then, a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal, or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now, came the violin solo above all the other strings, and those strings were like a cage of silk round my bed. Then flute and oboe bored, like worms of like platinum, into the thick thick toffee gold and silver.”

“The common people will let it go, oh yes. They will sell liberty for a quieter life. That is why they must be prodded, prodded.”

“You were not put on this earth just to get in touch with God. That sort of thing could sap all the strength and the goodness out of a chelloveck.”

“It’s a stinking world because it lets the young get on to the old like you done, and there’s no law nor order no more.”

“It’ll be your own torture,” he said, serious. “I hope to God it’ll torture you to madness.”

“And to all others in this story profound shooms of lip music brrrrrr. And they can kiss my sharries.”

“But, brothers, this biting of their toe-nails over what is the CAUSE of badness is what turns me into a fine laughing malchick. They don’t go into what is the cause of GOODNESS, so why of the other shop?”

“One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy dirty old drunky howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts;I could never stand to see anyone like that. whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was.”

“Now in those days, my brothers, the teaming up was mostly by fours and fives, these being like auto-teams, for being a comfy number for an auto, and six being the outside limit for gang-size. Sometimes gangs would gang up so as to make like malenky armies for big nightwar, but mostly it was best to roam in these like small numbers.”

“Dreams go by opposites I was once told.”

“Pero hermanos, este morderse las uñas acerca de la causa de la maldad es lo que me da verdadera risa. No les preocupa saber cuál es la causa de la bondad, y entonces, ¿por qué quieren averiguar el otro asunto? Si los liudos (individuos) son buenos es porque les gusta, y ni se me ocurriría interferir en sus placeres, así que lo mismo deberían hacer en el otro negocio. Y yo soy cliente del otro negocio.”

“It may not be nice to be good, 6655321. It may be horrible to be good. And when I say that to you I realize how self-contradictory that sounds. I know I shall have many sleepless nights about this. What does God want? Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?”

“Our subject is, you see, impelled towards the good by, paradoxically, being impelled towards evil. The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress. To counter these the subject has to switch to a diametrically opposed attitude.”

“Oh, it was gorgeosity and yumyumyum. When it came to the Scherzo I could viddy myself very clear running and running on like the very light and mysterious nogas, carving the whole litso of the creeching world with my cut-throat britva.”

“I wanted music very bad this evening, that singing devotchka in the Korova having perhaps started me off. I wanted like a big feast of it before getting my passport stamped, my brothers, at sleep’s frontier and the stripy shest lifted to let me through.”

“Oh, era suntuoso, y la suntuosidad hecha carne. Los trombones crujían como láminas de oro bajo mi cama, y detrás de mi golová las trompetas lanzaban lenguas de plata, y al lado de la puerta los timbales me asaltaban las tripas y brotaban otra vez como un trueno de caramelo. Oh, era una maravilla de maravillas. Y entonces, como un ave de hilos entretejidos del más raro metal celeste, o un vino de plata que flotaba en una nave del espacio, perdida toda gravedad, llegó el solo de violín imponiéndose a las otras cuerdas, y alzó como una jaula de seda alrededor de mi cama. Aquí entraron la flauta y el oboe, como gusanos platinados, en el espeso tejido de plata y oro. Yo volaba poseído por mi propio éxtasis, oh hermanos.”

“The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence – the act of love, for instance; music, for instance. You must take your chance, boy. The choice has been all yours.”

“Well, everything’s a lesson, isn’t it? Learning all the time, as you could say.”

“What’s all this about sin, eh?’

‘That,’ I said, very sick. ‘Using Ludwig van like that. He did no harm to anyone. Beethoven just wrote music.’ And then I was really sick and they had to bring a bowl that was in the shape of like a kidney.

‘Music,’ said Dr. Brodsky, like musing. ‘So you’re keen on music. I know nothing about it myself. It’s a useful emotional heightener, that’s all I know. Well, well. What do you think about that, eh, Branom?’

‘It can’t be helped,’ said Dr. Branom. ‘Each man kills the thing he loves…”

“You have no cause to grumble boy. You made your choice and all this is a consequence of your choice. Whatever now ensues is what you yourself have chosen.”

“Go on, do me in, you bastard cowards, I don’t want to live anyway, not in a stinking world like this one.’ I told Dim to lay off a bit then, because it used to interest me sometimes to slooshy what some of these starry decreps had to say about life and the world. I said: ‘Oh. And what’s stinking about it?”

“And I sort of frowned about that, thinking. ‘You felt ill this afternoon,’ he said, ‘because you’re getting better. When we’re healthy we respond to the presence of the hateful with fear and nausea. You’re becoming healthy, that’s all.”

“It is as inhuman to be totally good as it is to be totally evil. The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”

“What gives, O my little sister? Come thou and have a nice lay-down with your malenky droog in this bed.”

“Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness?”

“There is the devastatingly simple, yet profound, moral dilemma, which underlies the book: is it better for a man to choose to be bad than to be conditioned to be good?”

“I was eighteen now, just gone. Eighteen was not a young age. At eighteen old Wolfgang Amadeus had written concertos and symphonies and operas and oratorios and all that cal, no, not cal, heavenly music. And then there was old Felix M. with his “Midsummer Night’s Dream” Overture. And there were others. And there was this like French poet set by old Benjy Britt, who had done all his best poetry by the age of fifteen, O my brothers. Arthur, his first name. Eighteen was not all that young an age then. But what was I going to do?”

“My book was Kennedyan and accepted the notion of moral progress. What was really wanted was a Nixonian book with no shred of optimism in it. Let us have evil prancing on the page… up to the very last line… Such a book would be sensational, and so it is. But I do not think it is it fair picture of human life. I do not think so because, by definition, a human being is endowed with free will. He can use this to choose between good and evil. If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange-meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with colour and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil… It is as inhuman to be totally good as it is to be totally evil. The important thing is moral choice… Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”

“By definition, a human being is endowed with free will. He can use this to choose between good and evil. If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange – meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with colour and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil or (since this is increasingly replacing both) the Almighty State. It is as inhuman to be totally good as it is to be totally evil. The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities. This is what the television news is all about. Unfortunately there is so much original sin in us all that we find evil rather attractive. To devastate is easier and more spectacular than to create.”

“Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”

“The old days are dead and gone days. For what I did in the past I have been punished. I have been cured.”

“You’ve sinned, I suppose, but your punishment has been out of all proportion. They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good.”

“And yet, in a sense, in choosing to be deprived of the ability to make an ethical choice, you have in a sense really chosen the good.”

“You must take your chance boy. The choice has been all yours.”

“The 21st chapter gives the novel the quality of genuine fiction, an art founded on the principle that human beings change.

 

“A Clockwork Orange Resucked” intro to first full American version 1986”

“And then, before he told me, I knew what it was. The old ptitsa who had

all the kots and koshkas had passed on to a better world in one of the city

hospitals. I’d cracked her a bit too hard, like. Well, well, that was

everything. I thought of all those kots and koshkas mewling for moloko and

getting none, not any more from their starry forella of a mistress. That was

everything. I’d done the lot, now and me still only fifteen.”

“The question is whether such a technique can really make a man good. Greatness comes from within, 6655321. Goodness is something chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.”

“Civilized my syphilised yarbles. Music always sort of sharpened me up, O my brothers, and made me like feel like old Bog himself, ready to make with the old donner and blitzen and have vecks and ptitsas creeching away in my ha ha power.”

“But this one was a writer, not a reader.”

“What’s on them, I wonder. What would be up there on things like that?’ I nudged him hard, saying: ‘Come, gloopy bastard as thou art. Think thou not on them. There’ll be life like down here most likely, with some getting knifed and others doing the knifing.”

“You were not put on this earth just to get in touch with God.”

“I kept pushing the old noga through the floorboards near, and the Durango 95 ate up the road like spaghetti.”

“Alex like groweth up, Oh Yes.”

“They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good. And I see that clearly—that business about the marginal conditionings. Music and the sexual act, literature and art, all must be a source now not of pleasure but of pain.”

“There comes a time, however, when violence is seen as juvenile and boring. It is the repartee of the stupid and ignorant.”

“What sort of world is it at all? Men on the moon and men spinning round the earth like it might be midges round a lamp, and there’s not no attention paid to earthly law nor order no more.”

“You’d lay there after you’d drunk the old moloko and then you got the messel that everything all around you was sort of in the past.”

“One can die but once. Dim died before he was born.”

“An eye for an eye, I say. If someone hits you you hit back, do you not? Why then should not the State, very severely hit by you brutal hooligans, not hit back also? But the new view is to say no. The new view is that we turn the bad into the good. All of which seems to me grossly unjust.”

“Özgür irade ile seçilen kötülük, organize güçler tarafından kişiye dayatılan deterministik iyilikten daha mı insancadır ?”

“You can viddy that everything in this wicked world counts. You can pony that one thing always leads to another. Right right right.”

“Horrorshow is right, friend. A real show of horrors.”

“Me, me, me. How about me? Where do I come into all this? Am I like just some animal or dog? Am I just to be like a clockwork orange?”

“What does God want? Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?”

“And now, talking of praying, I realise sadly that there will be little point in praying for you. You are passing now to a region where you will be beyond the reach of the power of prayer.”

“When we’re healthy we respond to the presence of the hateful with fear and nausea.”

“The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress.”

“If I had died it would have been even better for you political bratchnies, would it not, pretending and treacherous droogs as you are.’ But all that came out was er er er.”

“Quizás el hombre que elige el mal es en cierto modo mejor que aquel a quien se le impone el bien,”

“Yes yes yes, there it was. Youth must go, ah yes. But youth is only being in a way like it might be an animal. No, it is not just like being an animal so much as being one of these malenky toys you viddy being sold in the streets, like little chellovecks made out of tin and with a spring inside and then a winding handle on the outside and you wind it up grrr grrr grrr and off it itties, like walking, O my brothers. But it itties in a straight line and bangs straight into things bang bang and it cannot help what it is doing. Being young is like being like one of these malenky machines.

My son, my son. When I had my son I would explain all that to him when he was starry enough to like understand. But then I knew he would not understand or would not want to understand at all and would do all the veshches I had done, yes perhaps even killing some poor starry forella surrounded with mewing kots and koshkas, and I would not be able to really stop him. And nor would he be able to stop his own son, brothers. And so it would itty on until like the end of the world, round and round and round, like some bolshy gigantic like chelloveck, like old Bog Himself (by courtesy of Korova Milkbar) turning and turning and turning a vonny grahzny orange in his gigantic rookers.”

“And so farewell from your little droog. And to all others in this story profound shooms of lip-music brrrrr. And they can kiss my sharries. But you, O my brothers, remember sometimes thy little Alex that was. Amen. And all that cal.”

“Delimitation is always difficult. The world is one, life is one. The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence – the act of love, for instance; music, for instance.”

“You’ve sinned, I suppose, but your punishment has been out of all proportion. They have turned you into something other than a human being. You have no power of choice any longer. You are committed to socially acceptable acts, a little machine capable only of good. And I see that clearly – that business about marginal conditionings. Music and the sexual act, literature and art, all must be a source now not of pleasure but of pain.”

“But the not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self. And is not our modern history, my brothers, the story of the brave malenky selves fighting these big machines?”

 

“There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.”

“Is the man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?”

“Then I wanted to sick up the gluey pie I’d had before the start of the evening, But I couldn’t stand the sort of veshch, sicking all over the floor, so I held it back.”

“But poor old Dim kept looking up at the stars and planets and the Luna with his rot wide open like a kid who’d never viddied any such thing before, and he said: “What’s on them, I wonder. What would be up there on things like that?” I nudged him hard, saying: “Come, gloopy bastard as thou art. Think thou not on them. There’ll be life like down here most likely, with some getting knifed and others doing the knifing.”

“Suddenly, I viddied what I had to do, and that was to do myself in; to snuff it, to blast off forever out of this wicked, cruel world. One moment of pain perhaps and, then, sleep forever, and ever and ever.”

“To turn a decent young man into a piece of clockwork should not, surely, be seen as any triumph for any government, save one that boasts of its repressiveness.”

“Some of us have to fight. There are great traditions of liberty to defend. I am no partisan man. Where I see the infamy I seek to erase it. Party names mean nothing. The tradition of liberty means all. The common people will let it go, oh yes. They will sell liberty for a quieter life. That is why they must be prodded, prodded-.”

“There’s the mackerel of the cornflake for you, you dirty reader of filth and nastiness.”

“Choice,’ rumbled a rich deep goloss. I viddied it belonged to the prison charlie. ‘He has no real choice, has he? Self-interest, fear of physical pain, drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.”

“Birisi sana vurursa, sen de ona vurursun, değil mi? Siz gaddar serseriler de devlete çok sert vuruyorsunuz, öyleyse devlet niye aynı şekilde karşılık vermesin. Ama yeni bakış açısı buna hayır diyor. Yeni bakış açısına göre, kötüleri iyiye dönüştürmeliymişiz.

(syf. 82)”

“Madem kimileri iyi insan olmayı seçiyor, madem bundan haz alıyorlar, onlara hayatta karışmam, kimse de bana karışmasın. Ama bana karışıyorlardı. Üstelik kötülük bireye özgüdür, sizlere, bana ve tek tabancalığımıza özgüdür ve bizleri yaratan bizim Tanrı’dır, hem de gururla ve keyifle yaratmıştır. Ama birey olmayan şeyler kötülüğe katlanamazlar, yani devlet ve yargıçlar ve okullar kötülüğe izin vermezler çünkü bireylere izin veremezler. Hem modern tarihimiz, bu büyük makinelerle savaşan cesur, küçük bireylerin öyküsü değil midir kardeşlerim? Bu konuda ciddiyim kardeşlerim. Ama yaptıklarımı sevdiğim için yapıyorum.”

“What’s this for?’ I said. And this veck replied, interrupting his like song an instant, that it was to keep my gulliver still and make me look at the screen. ‘But,’ I said, ‘I want to look at the screen. I’ve been brought here to viddy films and viddy films I shall.”

“Speak up for me, sir, for I’m not so bad. I was led on by the treachery of others.”

“I like nothing better in this world than a good clean book, brother.”

“is as inhuman to be totally good as it is to be totally evil. The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.”

“like candy thunder. Oh,”

“If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange—meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with colour and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil or (since this is increasingly replacing both) the Almighty State.”

“If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange-meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with colour and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil or (since this is increasingly replacing both) the Almighty State.”

“My son, my son. When I had my son I would explain all that to him when he was starry enough to like understand. But then I knew he would not understand or would not want to understand at all and would do all the veshches I had done, yes perhaps even killing some poor starry forella surrounded with mewing kots and koshkas, and I would not be able to really stop him. And nor would he be able to stop his own son, brothers. And so it would itty on to like the end of the world…”

“The Government cannot be concerned any longer with outmoded penelogical theories. Cram criminals together and see what happens, You get concentrated criminality, crime in the midst of punishment.”

“Mas eu não conseguia deixar de me sentir um pouquinho decepcionado com as coisas do jeito que eram naquela época. Nada contra o que lutar de verdade. Tudo era fácil como tirar doce de criança. Mas a noite ainda era mesmo uma criança.”

“Because I’m too drunk to feel the pain if you hit me, and if you kill me I’ll be glad to be dead.”

“Las cosas serán siempre peores, nunca mejores.

Qué nuevo mundo están preparándose ustedes.”

“Ama kötülüğün sebebini bulmaya çalışarak tırnakların kemirmeleri kahkahadan kırılmama yol açıyor kardeşlerim. İyiliğin sebebini aradıkları yok, öyleyse niye tersini merak ediyorlar ki?

(syf. 35)”

“There is, in fact, not much point in writing a novel unless you can show the possibility of moral transformation, or an increase in wisdom, operating in your chief character or characters.”

“Even trashy bestsellers show people changing. When a fictional work fails to show change, when it merely indicates that human character is set, stony, unregenerable, then you are out of the field of the novel and into that of the fable or the allegory.”

“Goodness comes from within, 6655321. Goodness is something chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.”

“The attempt to impose upon man, a creature of growth and capable of sweetness, to ooze juicily at the last round the bearded lips of God, to attempt to impose, I say, laws and conditions appropriate to a mechanical creation, against this I raise my sword-pen.”

“I see you have books under your arm, brother. It is indeed a rare pleasure these days to come across somebody that still reads, brother.”

“But now as I end this story, brothers, I am not young, not no longer, oh no. Alex like groweth up, oh yes.”

“There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.”

“Bir akıl çağının kâfirliği. Doğruyu görür ve onaylar, ama yanlışı yaparım.”

“Ya no es un malhechor. Tampoco es una criatura capaz de una elección moral.”

“The heresy of an age of reason. I see what is right and approve, but I do what is wrong.”

“Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you enuch jelly, thou”

“…, her insan sevdiği şeyi öldürür. Ceza öğesi budur belki de.”

“He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.”

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