«1984. Книга для чтения на английском языке» kitabından alıntılar, sayfa 3

street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and

There is no possibility that any perceptible change will happen within our own lifetime. We are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. We shall take part in it as handfuls of dust and splinters of bone

It was a bright cold day in April,

It struck him that the man’s whole life was playing a part, and that he felt it to be dangerous to drop his assumed personality even for a moment

Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned

overwhelming temptation

. If you kept the small rules, you could break the big ones.

He had set his features into the expression of quiet optimism which it was advisable to wear when facing the telescreen

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.