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In the nurseries, the Elementary Class Consciousness lesson was over, the voices were adapting future demand to future industrial supply. "I do love flying," they whispered, "I do love flying, I do love having new clothes, I do love.." "But old clothes are beastly" continued the untiring whisper. "We always throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending, ending is better than mending, ending is better..."
"Old men in the bad old days used to renounce, retire, take to religion, spend their time thinking - Thinking! Now - such in progress - the old men work, the old men copulate, the old men have no time, no leisure from pleasure, not a moment to sit down and think - or if ever by some unlucky chance such crevice of time should yawn in the solid substance of their distractions, there is always soma, delicious soma.."