Quote 10
It was after midnight when the last of the helicopters took its flight. Stupefied by soma, and exhausted by a long-drawn frenzy of sensuality, the Savage lay sleeping in the heather. The sun was already high when he awoke. He lay for a moment, blinking in owlish incomprehension at the light; then suddenly remembered— everything.
"Oh, my God, my God!" He covered his eyes with his hand. (18.101-2)
The little dash before "everything" leads us to believe that John did after all have sex with Lenina. It's possible he's just remembering the flogging, but as we said, in a book where sex and violence are so closely tied together, it's unlikely that the climax of violence could occur without the climax of sex. Also, it was an orgy—everyone else was doing it. And the line about him covering his eyes is important (think famous Greek tragedies). Read John's "Character Analysis" for more.
Quote 11
"Once," he went on, "I did something that none of the others did: I stood against a rock in the middle of the day, in summer, with my arms out, like Jesus on the Cross."
"What on earth for?"
"I wanted to know what it was like being crucified. Hanging there in the sun…"
"But why?"
"Why? Well…" He hesitated. "Because I felt I ought to. If Jesus could stand it. And then, if one has done something wrong… Besides, I was unhappy; that was another reason."
"It seems a funny way of curing your unhappiness," said Bernard. But on second thoughts he decided that there was, after all, some sense in it. Better than taking soma… (8.69-74)
John's explanation that "I felt I ought to" lends weight to the theory that his self-mutilation is a product of his upbringing and stands without logic or reason. On the other hand, his added claim that he was trying to cure himself of unhappiness suggests that there's something else going on here: John has thought more deeply about what it means to suffer.
Quote 12
A click; the room was darkened; and suddenly, on the screen above the Master's head, there were the Penitentes of Acoma prostrating themselves before Our Lady, and wailing as John had heard them wail, confessing their sins before Jesus on the Cross, before the eagle image of Pookong. The young Etonians fairly shouted with laughter. Still wailing, the Penitentes rose to their feet, stripped off their upper garments and, with knotted whips, began to beat themselves, blow after blow. Redoubled, the laughter drowned even the amplified record of their groans.
"But why do they laugh?" asked the Savage in a pained bewilderment.
"Why?" The Provost turned towards him a still broadly grinning face. "Why? But because it's so extraordinarily funny." (11.54-6)
Because they have been desensitized to human suffering, the citizens of the World State find it funny—even entertaining. This short passage prepares us for the end of the novel, where we delightfully ask, "Who's laughing NOW?"