Back to culture. Yes, actually to culture. You can't consume much if you sit still and read books. - Aldous Huxley

When one individual comes into intimate contact with another, she — or he, of course, as the case may be — must almost inevitably receive or inflict suffering.

"You all remember," said the Controller, in his strong deep voice, "you all remember, I suppose, that beautiful and inspired saying of Our Ford's: History is bunk. History," he repeated slowly, "is bunk."
He waved his hand; and it was as though, with an invisible feather wisk, he had brushed away a little dust, and the dust was Harappa, was Ur of the Chaldees; some spider-webs, and they were Thebes and Babylon and Cnossos and Mycenae. Whisk. Whisk-and where was Odysseus, where was Job, where were Jupiter and Gotama and Jesus? Whisk-and those specks of antique dirt called Athens and Rome, Jerusalem and the Middle Kingdom-all were gone. Whisk-the place where Italy had been was empty. Whisk, the cathedrals; whisk, whisk, King Lear and the Thoughts of Pascal. Whisk, Passion; whisk, Requiem; whisk, Symphony; whisk...

But if you know about God, why don't you tell them?' asked the Savage indignantly.
'Why don't you give them these books about God?'
'For the same reason as we don't give them Othello: they're old; they're about God hundreds of years ago. Not about God now.'
'But God doesn't change.'
'Men do, though.'
'What difference does that make?'
"All the difference in the world,' said Mustapha Mond.