“An Alpha-decanted, Alpha-conditioned man would go mad if he had to do Epsilon Semi-moron work– go mad or start smashing things up. Alphas can be completely socialized– but only on condition that you make them do Alpha work. Only an Epsilon can be expected to make Epsilon sacrifices, fo rth egood reason that for him they aren’t sacrifices; they’re the line of least resistance. His conditioning has laid down rails along which he’s got to run. He can’t help himself; he’s foredoomed. Even after decanting he’s still inside a bottle– an invisible bottle of infantile and embryonic fixations. Each one of us, of course,” the Controller meditatively continued, goes through life inside a bottle. But if we happen to be Alphas, our bottles are, relatively speaking, enormous. We should suffer acutely if we were confined to a narrower space.”

“But that’s the price we have to pay for stability. You’ve got to choose between happiness and what people used to call high art. We’ve sacrificed the high art. We have the feelies and the scent organ instead.”