Some might think—though I don’t—that nine years ago there was some excuse for men not to see the direction in which the world was going.  Today, the evidence is so blatant that no excuse can be claimed by anyone any longer.  Those who refuse to see it now are neither blind nor innocent.

The greatest guilt today is that of people who accept collectivism by moral default; the people who seek protection from the necessity of taking a stand, by refusing to admit to themselves the nature of that which they are accepting; the people who support plans specifically designed to achieve serfdom, but hide behind the empty assertion that they are lovers of freedom, with no concrete meaning attached to the word; the people who believe that the content of ideas need not be examined, that principles need not be defined, and that facts can be eliminated by keeping one’s eyes shut.  They expect, when they find themselves in a world of bloody ruins and concentration camps, to escape moral responsibility by wailing: “But I didn’t mean this!”

“You are beautiful, Liberty 5-3000.”

Their face did not move and they did not avert their eyes.  Only their eyes grew wider, and there was triumph in their eyes, and it was not triumph over us, but over things we could not guess.

…

“We shall look upon you, Liberty 5-3000, if we see you among all the women of the earth.”

We think that in the wisdom of women the Golden One had understood more than we can understand.

But it is not proper to sing without reason, save at the Social Meetings.

It is forbidden, not to be happy.  For, as it has been explained to us, men are free and the earth belongs to them; and all things on earth belong to all men; and the will of all men together is good for all; and so all men must be happy.

Our body is betraying us, for the Council of the Home looks with suspicion upon us.  It is not good to feel too much joy nor to be glad that our body lives.  For we matter not and it must not matter to us whether we live or die, which is to be as our brothers will it.  But we, Equality 7-2521, are glad to be living.  If this is a vice, then we wish no virtue.

We have heard the legends of the great fighting, in which many men fought on one side and only a few on the other.  These few were the Evil Ones and they were conquered.  Then great fires raged over the land.  And in these fires the Evil Ones were burned.  And the fire which is called the Dawn of the Great Rebirth, was the Script Fire where all the scripts of the Evil Ones were burned, and with them all the words of the Evil Ones.  Great mountains of flame stood in the squares of the Cities for three months.  Then came the Great Rebirth.

We were a child then, ten years old.  And we stood in the great square with all the children and all the men of the City, sent to behold the burning.  They brought the Transgressor out into the square and they led them to the pyre.  They had torn out the tongue of the Transgressor, so that they could speak no longer.  The Transgressor were young and tall.  …  They walked to the pyre, and their step did not falter.  And of all the faces on that square, of all the faces which shrieked and screamed and spat curses upon them, theirs was the calmest and the happiest face.

…  And we thought then, standing in the square, that the likeness of a Saint was the face we saw before us in the flames, the face of the Transgressor of the Unspeakable Word.

No single one can possess greater wisdom than the many Scholars who are elected by all men for their wisdom.  Yet we can.  We do.  We have fought against saying it, but now it is said.  We do not care.  We forget all men, all laws and all things save our metals and our wires.  So much is still to be learned!  So long a road lies before us, and what care we if we must travel it alone!

Tonight, after more days and trials than we can count, we finished building a strange thing, from the remains of the Unmentionable Times, a box of glass, devised to give forth the power of the sky of greater strength than we had ever achieved before.  And when we put our wires to this box, when we closed the current—the wire glowed!  It came to life, it turned red, and a circle of light lay on the stone before us.

For the first time do we care about our body.  For this wire is a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our blood.  Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made it, or is there a line to divide these two?

“Are you ready to speak?”

But we shook our head, lying before them on the floor.  And they departed.

Tomorrow, in the full light of day, we shall take our box, and leave our tunnel open, and walk through the streets to the Home of the Scholars.  We shall put before them the greatest gift ever offered to men.  We shall tell them the truth.  We shall hand to them, as our confession, these pages we have written.  We shall join our hands to theirs, and we shall work together, with the power of the sky, for the glory of mankind.  Our blessing upon you, our brothers!  Tomorrow, you will take us back into your fold and we shall be an outcast no longer.  Tomorrow we shall be one of you again.  Tomorrow…

“This would wreck the Plans of the World Council,” said Unanimity 2-9913, “and without the Plans of the World Council the sun cannot rise.  It took fifty years to secure the approval of all the Councils for the Candle, and to decide upon the number needed, and to re-fit the Plans so as to make candles instead of torches.  This touched upon thousands and thousands of men working in scores of States.  We cannot alter the Plans again so soon.”

We have lied to ourselves.  We have not built this box for the good of our brothers.  We built it for its own sake.  …  There is not a thing behind us to regret.

Then a blow of pain struck us, our first and our only.  We thought of the Golden One.  We thought of the Golden One whom we shall never see again.

We made a fire, we cooked the bird, and we ate it, and no meal had ever tasted better to us.  And we thought suddenly that there was a great satisfaction to be found in the food which we need and obtain by our own hand.

Our face was not like the faces of our brothers, for we felt no pity when looking upon it.

And suddenly, for the first time this day, we remembered that we are the Damned.  We remembered it, and we laughed.

And that night we knew that to hold the body of women in our arms is neither ugly nor shameful, but the one ecstasy granted to the race of men.

If that which we have found is the corruption of solitude, then what can men wish for save corruption?

“We are one…alone…and only…and we love you who are one…alone…and only.”

I stand here on the summit of the mountain.  I lift my head and I spread my arms.  This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest.  I wished to know the meaning of things.  I am the meaning.  I wished to find a warrant for being.  I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being.  I am the warrant and the sanction.

Neither am I the means to any end others may wish to accomplish.  I am not a tool for their use.  I am not a servant of their needs.  I am not a bandage for their wounds.  I am not a sacrifice on their altars.

I shall choose friends among men, but neither slaves nor masters.  And I shall choose only such as please me, and them I shall love and respect, but neither command nor obey.  And we shall join our hands when we wish, or walk alone when we so desire.

It was when I read the first of the books I found in my house that I saw the word “I.”  And when I understood this word, the book fell from my hands, and I wept, I who had never known tears. I wept in deliverance and in pity for all mankind.

It was a long story, and the spirit which moved it was the spirit of man’s freedom.  But what is freedom?  Freedom from what?  There is nothing to take a man’s freedom away from him, save other men.  To be free, a man must be free of his brothers.  That is freedom.  That and nothing else.

Through all the darkness, through all the shame of which men are capable, the spirit of man will remain alive on this earth.  It may sleep, but it will awaken.  It may wear chains, but it will break through.  And man will go on.  Man, not men.

The planners of Anthem’s society indoctrinate the individuals that comprise society into believing that people are a means to the ends of the state, not an ends within themselves.  As such, it is considered a libertarian classic….  The novella centres around an individual’s strive to think freely, to love freely, and to live and let live, and thus it is truly timeless.  With such beautiful poetry, it celebrates the survival and ultimate indestructibility of the individualist spirit.