"Have you done this before?"
"Of course. Hundreds of times – well scores of times anyway."
"With Party members?"
"Yes, always with Party members." (2.2.48-51, Winston and Julia)
His heart leapt. Scores of times she had done it: he wished it had been hundreds – thousands. Anything that hinted at corruption always filled him with a wild hope. Who knew, perhaps the Party was rotten under the surface, its cult of strenuousness and selfdenial simply a sham concealing iniquity. If he could have infected the whole lot of them with leprosy or syphilis, how gladly he would have done so! Anything to rot, to weaken, to undermine! He pulled her down so that they were kneeling face to face. "Listen. The more men you've had, the more I love you. Do you understand that?" (2.2.54-55, Winston)
"I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don't want any virtue to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones."
"Well then, I ought to suit you, dear. I'm corrupt to the bones."
"You like doing this? I don't mean simply me: I mean the thing in itself?"
"I adore it." (2.2.57-60, Winston and Julia)