George Orwell

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"By half past one the last drop of pleasure had evaporated, leaving nothing but headaches. We perceived that we were not splendid inhabitants of a splendid world, but a crew of underpaid workmen grown squalidly and dismally drunk. We went on swallowing the wine, but it was only from habit, and the stuff seemed suddenly nauseating. one's head had swollen up like a balloon, the floor rocked, and one's tongue and lips were stained purple...On the whole, the two hours when one was perfectly and wildly happy seemed worth the subsequent headache"

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