"I was crying partly because this was expected of me, partly from genuine repentence, but partly also because of a deeper grief which is peculiar to childhood and not easy to convey: a sense of desolate loneliness and helplessness, of being locked up not only in a hostile world but in a world of good and evil where the rules were such that it was actually not possible for me to keep them. I knew that bed-wetting was (a) wicked and (b) outside my control. The second fact I was personally aware of, and the first I did not question. It was possible, therefore, to commit a sin without knowing that you committed it, without wanting to commit it and without being able to avoid it. Sin was not necessarily something that you did: it might be something that happened to you...But at any rate, this was the great, abiding lesson of my boyhood: that I was in a world where it was not possible for me to be good."(Orwell's emphasis)