A Clockwork Orange

Alex:
Appy-polly-loggies. I had something of a pain in my gulliver so I had to sleep. I was not awakened when I gave orders for awakening.

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

Minister:
As I was saying, Alex, you can be instrumental in changing the public verdict. Do you understand, Alex? Have I made myself clear?

Alex:
As an unmuddied lake, Fred. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, Fred.

Alex:
Initiative comes to thems that wait.

Alex:
What we were after now was the old surprise visit. That was a real kick and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultraviolence.

Alex:
We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it being a night of no small expenditure.

Alex:
Viddy well, little brother. Viddy well.

Alex:
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. The Korova milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.

Alex:
There was nothing I hated more than to see a filthy old drunkie, a-howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as if it were a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, especially when they were old like this one was.

Alex:
Well, well, well! Well if it isn't fat stinking billy goat Billy Boy in poison! How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if ya have any yarble, ya eunuch jelly thou!

Alex:
And the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I'd like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage.

Alex:
It had been a wonderful evening and what I needed now, to give it the perfect ending, was a little of the Ludwig Von.

Alex:
Hi, hi, hi, Mr. Deltoid!

Dim:
What did you do that for?

Alex:
For being a bastard with no manners, you haven't a dook of an idea how to comport yourself public-wise, O my brother!

Dim:
I don't like you should do what you've done and I'm not your brother no more and wouldn't want to be.

Alex:
Watch that, do watch that O Dim, if to continue to be on live thou, dost wist?

Dim:
Yarbles! Great bolshy yarblockos to you. I'll meet you with chain or nozh or britva anytime. I'm not having you aiming tolchocks at me reasonless. It stands to reason, I won't have it.

Alex:
A nozh scrap anytime you say.

Dim:
Doobiedoob, a bit tired maybe, best not to say more. Bedways is rightways now, so best we go homeways and get a bit of spatchka. Right-right?

Alex:
Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!

Alex:
What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got, say, pitiful, portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper! Hear angels' trumpets and devils' trombones. You are invited!

Alex:
So now it was to be Georgie the General, saying what we should do and what not to do, with Dim as his mindless grinning bulldog. But then I viddied that thinking is for the gloopy ones and the oomny ones use, like, inspiration and what Bog sends. For now it was lovely music that came to my aid, there was a window open with the stereo on and I viddied right at once what to do.

Alex:
It's impossible! I can't believe it!

Georgie:
Evidence of the ol' glassies! Nothing up our sleeves, no magic little Alex! A job for two who are now of job age! The police!

Alex:
Hi, hi, hi there! At last we meet. Our brief govoreet through the letter-hole was not, shall we say, satisfactory, yes?

Alex:
Naughty, naughty, naughty! You filthy old soomka!

Frank Alexander:
Food alright?

Alex:
Great sir, great!

Frank Alexander:
Try the wine!

Frank Alexander:
She was very badly raped, you see! We were assaulted by a gang of vicious, young, hoodlums in this house! In this very room you are sitting in now! I was left a helpless cripple, but for her the agony was too great! The doctor said it was pneumonia; because it happened some months later! During a flu epidemic! The doctors told me it was pneumonia, but I knew what it was! A VICTIM OF THE MODERN AGE! Poor, poor girl!

Alex:
The Durango '95 purred away a real horrowshow. A nice warm vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts!

P.R. Deltoid:
I've just come from the hospital; your victim has died.

Alex:
You try to frighten me. Admit so, sir. This is some new form of torture. Say it, Brother Sir.

P.R. Deltoid:
It'll be your own torture. I hope to God it'll torture you to madness.

Alex:
No time for the old in-out, love, I've just come to read the meter.

Alex:
Eggiwegs! I would like... to smash them!

Alex:
You know what you can do with that watch? Stick it up your arse!

Alex:
I was cured, all right!

Prison Chaplain:
If a man cannot choose, he ceases to be a man.

Alex:
It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen.

Tramp:
Go on, do me in you bastard cowards! I don't want to live anyway,not in a stinking world like this one!

Alex:
Oh? And what's so stinking about it?

Alex:
I've suffered the tortures of the damned, sir

Alex:
- tortures of the damned.

Chief Guard Barnes:
Are you able to see the white line painted on the floor directly behind you, Six-Double-Five-Three-Two-One?

Alex:
Yes, sir.

Chief Guard Barnes:
Then your pose belongs ON THE OTHER SIDE OF IT!

Alex:
Enjoying that are you my darlin'? Bit cold and pointless isn't it my lovely? What's happened to yours my little sister?

Chief Guard Barnes:
Are you now, or have you ever been a homosexual?

Prison Chaplain:
What's it going to be, eh? Is it going to be in and out of institutions like this? Well, more in and out for most of ya! Or are you going to attend to the Divine Word and realise the punishments that await unrepentant sinners in the next world as well as this? A lot of idiots you are, selling your own birthright for a saucer of cold porridge! The thrill of theft! Of violence! The urge to live easy! Well, I ask you what is it worth when we have undeniable truth - yes! Incontrovertible evidence that Hell exists! I know! I know my friends! I have been informed in visions that there is a place darker than any prison, hotter than any flame of human fire, where souls of unrepentant criminal sinners like yourselves...!

Prison Chaplain:
Don't you laugh, damn you! Don't you laugh! I say like yourselves scream in endless and unendurable agony! Their skin rotting and peeling! A fireball spinning in their screaming guts! I know! Oh yes, I know!

Chief Guard Barnes:
Pick that up and put it down properly!

Prison Chaplain:
Choice! The boy has not a real choice, has he? Self-interest, the fear of physical pain drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. The insincerity was clear to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.

Minister:
Padre, there are subtleties! We are not concerned with motives, with the higher ethics. We are concerned only with cutting down crime and with relieving the ghastly congestion in our prisons. He will be your true Christian, ready to turn the other cheek, ready to be crucified rather than crucify, sick to the heart at the thought of killing a fly. Reclamation! Joy before the angels of God! The point is that it works.

Minister:
What crime did you commit?

Alex:
The accidental killing of a person, sir.

Chief Guard Barnes:
He brutally murdered a woman, sir, in furtherance of theft. Fourteen years, sir!

Minister:
Excellent. He's enterprising, aggressive, outgoing, young, bold, vicious. He'll do.

Governor:
Well, fine, we could still look at C-block...

Minister:
No, no, no. That's enough. He's perfect. I want his records sent to me. This vicious young hoodlum will be transformed out of all recognition.

Alex:
Thank you very much for this chance, sir.

Minister:
Let's hope you make the most of it, my boy.

Alex:
No. No! NO! Stop it! Stop it, please! I beg you! This is sin! This is sin! This is sin! It's a sin, it's a sin, it's a sin!

Dr. Brodsky:
Sin? What's all this about sin?

Alex:
That! Using Ludwig van like that! He did no harm to anyone. Beethoven just wrote music!

Dr. Branom:
Are you referring to the background score?

Alex:
Yes.

Dr. Branom:
You've heard Beethoven before?

Alex:
Yes!

Dr. Brodsky:
So, you're keen on music?

Alex:
YES!

Dr. Brodsky:
Can't be helped. Here's the punishment element perhaps.

Alex:
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 god!

Dr. Brodsky:
You're not cured yet, boy.

Minister:
Oh, yes. I understand you're fond of music. I have arranged a little surprise for you.

Alex:
Surprise?

Minister:
One that I hope that you will like. As a um... how shall we put it? As a symbol of our new understanding. An understanding between two friends.

Alex:
So I waited and, O my brothers, I got a lot better munching away at eggiwegs, and lomticks of toast and lovely steakiwegs and then, one day, they said I was going to have a very special visitor.

Minister:
Good evening, my boy.

Minister:
You seem to have a whole ward to yourself, my boy.

Alex:
Yes, sir, and a very lovely place it is too, sir, when I wake up in the middle of the night with my pain.

Minister:
Yes... well, good to see you on the mend!

Minister:
Public opinion has a way of changing.

Minister:
Punishment means nothing to them, you can see that. They enjoy their so-called punishment.

Alex:
You're absolutely right, sir.

Tramp:
In Dublin's fair city / Where the girls are so pretty, / I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone. / As she wheel'd her wheel barrow, / Thro' streets broad and narrow, / Crying "cockles and mussels alive alive O!" / "alive, alive O! Alive, alive O! / Crying Cockles and Mussels alive, alive O!" / As everybody's knowing, You've got a decent tongue, / Whene'er it's set agoing.

Alex:
I woke up. The pain and sickness all over me like an animal. Then I realized what it was. The music coming up from the floor was our old friend, Ludwig Van, and the dreaded Ninth Symphony.

Alex:
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 for ever, and ever and ever.

Alex:
Let's get things nice and sparkling clear. This sarcasm, if I may call it such, does not become you, O my little brothers. As I am your droog and leader, I am entitled to know what goes on, eh? Now then, Dim, what does that great big horsy gape of a grin portend?

Georgie:
All right, no more picking on Dim, brother. That's part of the new way.

Alex:
New way? What's this about a new way? There's been some very large talk behind my sleeping back, and no error.

Georgie:
Well, if you must have it, have it then. We go around, shop crasting and the like, coming out with a pitiful rookerful of money each.

Dim:
Pitiful rookerful.

Georgie:
And there's Will the English, in the Muscleman coffee mesto, saying he can fence anything that any malchick tries to crast. The shiny stuff, the ice, the big, big, big money is available, is what Will the English says.

Dim:
Big, big money.

Alex:
And what will you do with the big, big, big money? Have you not everything you need? If you need a motor car, you pluck it from the trees. If you need pretty polly, you take it.

Georgie:
Brother, you think and talk sometimes like a little child.

Alex:
It's no good sitting there in hope, my little brothers. I won't say a single solitary slovo unless I have my lawyer here. I know the law, you bastards.

Inspector:
Righty-right, Tom. We'll have to show our little friend Alex, here, that we know the law, too. But that knowing the law isn't everything.

[Alex is trying to persuade the prison chaplain to recommend him for the Ludovico Technique]

Chaplain:
The Governor has grave doubts about it, and I have heard that there are very serious dangers involved.

Alex:
I don't care about the dangers, Father. I just want to be good. I want for the rest of my life to be one act of goodness.

Chaplain:
The question is whether or not this technique really makes a man good. Goodness comes from within. Goodness is chosen. When a man cannot choose, he ceases to be a man.

Alex:
I don't understand about the whys and wherefores, Father. I only know I want to be good.

Chaplain:
Be patient, my son. Put your trust in the Lord.

Minister:
Cram criminals together and what do you get - concentrated criminality, crime in the midst of punishment.

Governor:
I agree, sir, what we need are larger prisons - more money.

Minister:
Not a chance, my dear fellow. The Government can't be concerned any longer with outmoded penological theories. Soon we may be needing all our prison space for political offenders. Common criminals like these are best dealt with on a purely curative basis. Kill the criminal reflex, that's all. Full implementation in a year's time. Punishment means nothing to them, you can see that. They enjoy their so-called punishment.

Alex:
You're absolutely right, sir.

Chief Guard Barnes:
Shut your bleedin' hole!

Minister:
Who said that?

Alex:
I did, sir.

Minister:
What is your crime?

Alex:
The accidental killing of a person, sir.

Chief Guard Barnes:
He brutally murdered a woman, in furtherance of theft! Fourteen years, sir!

Alex:
[narrating while being forced to watch a World War II movie with Nazis.] It was the next day, brothers. And I had truly done my best, morning and afternoon, to play it their way and sit like a horrorshow cooperative malchik in the chair of torture, while they flashed nasty bits of ultraviolence on the screen. Though not on the soundtrack, my brothers -- the only sound being music. Then I noticed, in all my pain and sickness, what music it was that, like, cracked and boomed. It was Ludwig Van -- 9th symphony, 4th movement.

Alex:
[screaming] STOP IT! STOP IT, PLEASE! I BEG YOU! IT'S A SIN! IT'S A SIN! IT'S A SIN! IT'S A SIN! IT'S A SIN! IT'S A SIN!

Dr. Brodsky:
Sin? What's all this about sin?

Alex:
THAT! Using Ludwig van like that! He did no harm to anyone! Beethoven just wrote music!

Dr. Branom:
Are you referring to the background score?

Alex:
YES!

Dr. Branom:
You've heard Beethoven before?

Alex:
YES!

Dr. Brodsky:
So you're keen on music?

Alex:
[Emphatically] YES!

Dr. Brodsky:
Can't be helped. Here's the punishment element perhaps. The Governor ought to be pleased...I'm sorry, Alex, this is for your own good. You'll have to bear with us for a while.

[Alex gags nauseously as he raises his fist, after being riled by Joe.]

Dad:
Are you all right, lad?

Mum:
Dad...it's the treatment.

Joe:
Well, it's disgusting. I mean, it's enough to put you off your food.

Mum:
Oh leave him be, Joe, it's the treatment.

[Dim and Georgie take Alex into the countryside after arresting him]

Dim:
Go on, Alex! Time for walkies!

Alex:
Come, come, come, my little droogies. I just don't get this at all. The old days are dead and gone. For what I did in the past, I've been punished.

Dim:
Punished!

Alex:
I've been cured!

Dim:
Cured, yeah! That was read out to us. The Inspector read it all out to us. He said it was a very good way.

Alex:
But what is all this? It was them that went for me, brothers. Well, you're not on their side, and can't be. Well, you can't be, Dim. It was someone we fillied with back in the old days, trying to get his own little bit of revenge after all this time. Remember, Dim?

Dim:
Long time is right. I don't remember them days too horrorshow. And don't call me Dim no more either! Officer, call me!

Georgie:
Enough is remembered, though, little Alex.

Dim:
This is to make sure you stay cured!

[holds Alex's head in a water trough as Georgie beats him repeatedly with a nightstick]

Georgie:
He's had enough, droogie.

Dim:
A bit more! He's still kicking!

[finally lets Alex up after several more seconds]

Dim:
Cured, are you? Be viddying you some more sometime, droogie!

Minister:
[as he feeds Alex morsels of food] We tried to help you. We followed recommendations which were made to us that turned out to be wrong. An inquiry will place the responsibility where it belongs. We want you to regard us as friends. We put you right. You are getting the best of treatment. We never wished you harm, but there are some who did, and do, and I think you know who those are. There are certain people who wanted to use you for political ends. They would have been glad to have you dead, for they thought they could then blame it all on the Government. There is also a certain man, a writer of subversive literature, who has been howling for your blood. He has been mad with desire to stick a knife into you but you are safe from him now. We put him away. He found out that you had done wrong to him. At least he believed you had done wrong. He formed this idea in his head that you had been responsible for the death of someone near and dear to him. He was a menace. We put him away for his own protection, and also for yours...We are interested in you and when you leave here you will have no worries. We shall see to everything - a good job on a good salary.

Alex:
What job and how much?

Minister:
You must have an interesting job with a salary which you would regard as adequate, not only for the job that you're going to do, and in compensation for what you believe you have suffered, but also because you are helping us.

Alex:
Helping you, sir?

Minister:
We always help our friends, don't we? It is no secret that this Government has lost a lot of popularity because of you, my boy. There are some who think that at the next election, we shall be out. The press has chosen to take a very unfavourable view of what we tried to do. But public opinion has a way of changing, and you, Alex -- if I may call you Alex?

Alex:
Certainly, sir. what do they call you at home?

Minister:
My name is Frederick. As I was saying, Alex, you can be instrumental in changing the public's verdict. Do you understand, Alex? Do I make myself clear?

Alex:
As an unmuddied lake, Fred. As clear as an azure sky of deepest summer. You can rely on me, Fred.

Cat Lady:
Oh sh*t. Who's there?

Alex:
Excuse me, missus, can you please help? There's been a terrible accident. Can I please use your telephone for an ambulance?

Cat Lady:
I'm frightfully sorry. There is a telephone in the Public House about a mile down the road. I suggest you use that.

Alex:
But, missus, this is an emergency. It's a matter of life and death. Me friend's lying in the middle of the road bleeding to death.

Cat Lady:
I'm very sorry but I never open the door to strangers after dark.

Alex:
Very well, madam. I suppose you can't be blamed for being suspicious with so many scoundrels and rouges of the night about. Dim, bend down. I'm gonna get in that window and open the front door.

Cat Lady:
Hello, Radlett Police Station. Good evening. It's Miss Weathers at Woodmere Health Farm... I'm frightfully sorry to bother you but something rather odd has just happened... Well, it's probably nothing at all, but you never know... Well, a young man ring the bell asking to use the telephone... He said there had been some kind of accident. The thing that caught my attention was what he said ó the words he used, sounded exactly like what was quoted in the papers this morning in connection with the writer and his wife who were assaulted last night... Well, just a few minutes ago... Well, if you think that's necessary, but, well, I'm quite sure he's gone away now. Oh... alright. Fine. Thank you very much. Thank you.

Alex:
Hi, hi, hi there! At last we meet. Our brief govoreet through the letter-hole was not, shall we say, satisfactory, yes?

Cat Lady:
Who are you? How the hell did you get in here? What the bloody hell d'you think you're doing?

Alex:
[sees a phallic sculpture on a table] Naughty, naughty, naughty, you filthy old soomka.

Cat Lady:
Now listen here, you little bastard, just you turn around and walk out of here the same way as you came in. Leave that alone! Don't touch it! It's a very important work of art. [Alex rocks the statue back and forth] What the bloody hell do you want?

Alex:
Well, to be perfectly honest, madam, I'm taking part in an international students' contest to see who can get the most points for selling magazines.

Cat Lady:
Cut the sh*t, sonny, and get out of here before you get yourself into some very serious trouble. [Alex rocks the statue again] I told you to leave that alone! Now get out of here before I throw you out! Wretched slummy bedbug. I'll teach you to break into real people's houses. [swings a bust of Beethoven at him] F***ing little bastard!

[the two fight; Alex is hit in the head, then beats her unconscious with the sculpture]

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] It was around by the derelict casino that we came across Billyboy and his four droogs. They were getting ready to perform a little of the old in-out, in-out on a weepy young devotchka they had there.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] The Durango-95 purred away real horrorshow - a nice, warm, vibraty feeling all through your guttiwuts. Soon, it was trees and dark, my brothers, with real country dark. We fillied around for a while with other travellers of the night, playing hogs of the road. Then we headed West. What we were after now was the old surprise visit. That was a real kick, and good for laughs and lashings of the old ultra-violence.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] We were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure, O my brothers. So we got rid of the auto and stopped off at the Korova for a nightcap.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] And it was like for a moment, O my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar and I felt all the malenky little hairs on my plott standing endwise and the shivers crawling up like slow malenky lizards and then down again. Because I knew what she sang. It was a bit from the glorious Ninth, by Ludwig van.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] I had not cut into any of Dim's main cables and so, with the help of a clean tashtook, the red, red kroovy soon stopped, and it did not take long to quieten the two wounded soldiers, down in the snug of the Duke of New York. Now they knew who was Master and Leader. Sheep, thought I, but a real leader knows always when like to give and show generous to his unders.

Alex Delarge:
This is the real weepy and like tragic part of the story beginning. O my brothers and only friends. After a trial with judges and a jury, and some very hard words spoken against your friend and humble narrator, he was sentenced to fourteen years in Staja No. 84F, among smelly perverts and hardened prestoopnicks, the shock sending my dadda beating his bruised and krovvy rookers against unfair Bog in his Heaven, and my mum boohoohooing in her mother's grief, at her only child and son of her bosom like letting everybody down real horrowshow.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] It had not been edifying, indeed not, being in this hellhole and human zoo for two years now, being kicked and tolchocked by brutal warders, and meeting leering criminals and perverts, ready to dribble all over a luscious young malchick like your storyteller.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] I read all about the scourging and the crowning with thorns and I could viddy myself helping in and even taking charge of the tolchocking and the nailing in, being dressed in the height of Roman fashion. I didn't so much like the latter part of the book, which is more like all preachy talking than fighting and the old in-out. I liked the parts where these old yahoodies tolchock each other and then drink their Hebrew vino, and getting onto the bed with their wives' handmaidens. That kept me going.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] And viddy films, I would. Where I was taken to, brothers, was like no sinny I ever viddied before. I was bound up in a straitjacket and my gulliver was strapped to a headrest with like wires running away from it. Then they clamped like lidlocks on my eyes so that I could not shut them no matter how hard I tried. It seemed a bit crazy to me, but I let them get on with what they wanted to get on with. If I was to be a free young malchick again in a fortnight's time, I would put up with much in the meantime, O my brothers. So far, the first film was a very good, professional piece of sinny, like it was done in Hollywood. The sounds were real horrorshow. You could slooshy the screams and moans very realistic, and you could even get the heavy breathing and panting of the tolchocking malchicks at the same time. And then, what do you know, soon our dear old friend, the red, red vino on tap, the same in all places like it's put out by the same big firm, began to flow. It was beautiful. It's funny how the colours of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen. Now all the time I was watching this, I was beginning to get very aware of like not feeling all that well, and this I put down to all the rich food and vitamins, but I tried to forget this, concentrating on the next film which jumped right away on a young devotchka who was being given the old in-out, in-out first by one malchick, then another, then another...When it came to the sixth or seventh malchick, leering and smecking and then going into it, I began to feel really sick. But I could not shut my glazzies. And even if I tried to move my glazz-balls about, I still could not get out of the line of fire of this picture.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] It was the next day, brothers, and I had truly done my best, morning and afternoon, to play it their way and sit, like a horrorshow co-operative malchick, in the chair of torture, while they flashed nasty bits of ultra-violence on the screen. Though not on the soundtrack, my brothers. The only sound being music. Then I noticed in all my pain and sickness what music it was that like cracked and boomed - it was Ludwig van - Ninth Symphony, fourth movement.

Alex Delarge:
It's not fair! It's not fair that I should feel sick when I hear lovely, lovely Ludwig Van!

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] And, O my brothers, would you believe your faithful friend and long suffering narrator pushed out his red yahzik a mile-and-a-half to lick the grahzny, vonny boots...The horrible killing sickness had whooshed up, and turned the like joy of battle into a feeling I was going to snuff it.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] She came towards me with the light like it was the like light of heavenly grace, and the first thing that flashed into my gulliver was that I'd like to have her right down there on the floor with the old in-out, real savage. But as quick as a shot came the sickness, like a detective that had been watching around the corner and now followed to make his arrest.

Alex Delarge:
[to his Mum and Dad] Right! I'm leaving now! You won't ever viddy me no more. I'll make me own way! Thank you very much. Let it lie heavy on your consciences.

Alex Delarge:
[voiceover] Then there was like a sea of dirty smelly old men, trying to get at your Humble Narrator, with their feeble rookers and horny old claws. It was old age having a go at youth, and I daren't do a single, solitary thing, O my brothers, it being better to be hit at like that than want to sick and feel that horrible pain.

Alex Delarge:
Eggiwegs! I would like... to smash them, and pick them all up, and throw--AAH! F***ing hell.

Mr. Deltoid:
It's just a "Matter of speech" from your post-corrective advisor that you watch out, little Alex, because next time it's not going to be the Corrective School anymore. Next time, it's going to be the barry place and all my work ruined. If you've no respect for your horrible self, you at least might have some for me who's sweated over you. A big black mark, I tell you, for every one we don't reclaim. A confession of failure for every one of you who ends up in the stripey hole.

Mr. Deltoid:
This is the end of the line for me, eh? The end of the line, yes!

Minister:
Excellent. He's enterprising, aggressive, outgoing, young, bold, vicious. He'll do...He's perfect. I want his records sent to me. This vicious young hoodlum will be transformed out of all recognition.

Minister:
Tomorrow, we send him out with confidence into the world again, as decent a lad as you would meet on a May morning. What a change is here, ladies and gentlemen, from the wretched hoodlum the State committed to unprofitable punishment some two years ago. Unchanged after two years. Unchanged, do I say? - not quite. Prison taught him the false smile, the rubbed hand of hypocrisy, the fawning, greased obsequious leer. Other vices it taught him, as well as confirming in those he had long practiced before. Our party promised to restore law and order and to make the streets safe again for the ordinary peace-loving citizen. This pledge is now about to become a reality. Ladies and gentlemen, today is an historic moment. The problem of criminal violence is soon to be a thing of the past. But enough of words. Actions speak louder than. Action now. Observe all.

Minister:
Our subject is 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. Any questions?

Dr. Brodsky:
Very soon now, the drug will cause the subject to experience a death-like paralysis, together with deep feelings of terror and helplessness. One of our early test subjects described it as being like death, a sense of stifling or drowning, and it is during this period we have found that the subject will make his most rewarding associations between his catastrophic experience-environment and the violence he sees.

Dr. Branom:
[to Alex] Violence is a very horrible thing. That's what you're learning now. Your body is learning it...You felt ill this afternoon because you're getting better. You see, when we are healthy, we respond to the presence of the hateful with fear and nausea. You're becoming healthy, that's all. By this time tomorrow, you'll be healthier still.

Joe:
I've heard about you. I know what you've done. Breaking the hearts of your poor grieving parents. So you're back, eh? You're back to make life a misery for your lovely parents once more, is that it?

Joe:
You've been like a father and mother to me. Well, it wouldn't be fair now or right, I mean, for me to go off and leave you two to the tender mercies of this young monster, who's been like no real son at all. Look, he's weeping now. But that's all his craft and artfulness. Let him go and find a room somewhere else. Let him learn the errors of his way, and that a bad boy like he's been doesn't deserve such a good mum and dad as he's had...You've made others suffer. It's only right that you should suffer proper.

Mr. Alexander:
I know you! Isn't it your picture in the newspapers? Didn't I see you on the video this morning? Are you not the poor victim of this horrible new technique?

Mr. Alexander:
(talking over phone) Recruiting brutal young roughs into the police, proposing debilitating and will-sapping techniques of conditioning. Oh, we've seen it all before in other countries. The thin end of the wedge. Before we know where we are, we shall have the full apparatus of totalitarianism. [looks over shoulder in the empty room] This young boy is a living witness to these diabolical proposals. The people - the common people - must know, must see. There are great traditions of liberty to defend. The tradition of liberty is all. The common people will let it go. Oh yes. They will sell liberty for a quieter life - that is why they must be led, sir, driven, pushed!!

Policeman:
[to Deltoid] If you'd care to give him a bash in the chops, sir, don't mind us. We'll hold him down. He must be a great disappointment to you, sir.

Chief Guard:
[to Alex] You are now 655321, and it is your duty to memorise that number.

Prison Governor:
These new ridiculous ideas have come at last and orders are orders, though I may say to you in confidence that I do not approve. 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 good. All of which seems to me to be grossly unjust, eh? (...) You are to be reformed.

Tramp:
This is the poisonous young swine that near done me in -- him and his friends, they beat me and kicked me and punched me. Stop him, stop him. They laughed at me blood and me moans. This murderous young pig is a prize specimen of the cowardly brutal young! He is in our midst and at our mercy! Give it to him! That's it!