Winston had a hallucination of himself smashing a pickax right into the middle of it. - P93
She had immediately taken charge of the situation, just as she had done in the canteen. - P96
The prevailing emotion was simply curiosity. Foreigners, whether from Eurasia or from Eastasia, were a kind of strange animal. - P97
It was almost time for Winston and the girl to part. But at the last moment, while the crowd still hemmed them in,
her hand felt for his and gave it a fleeting squeeze.
It could not have been ten seconds, and yet it seemed a long time that their hands were clasped together. He had time to learn every detail of her hand. He explored the long fingers, the shapely nails, the work-hardened palm with its row of calluses, the smooth flesh under the wrist. Merely from feeling it he would have known it by sight. - P97
In the same instant it occurred to him that he did not know whatcolor the girl‘s eyes were. They were probably brown, but people with dark hair sometimes had blue eyes. To turn his head and look at her would have been inconceivable folly. With hands locked together, invisible among the press of bodies, they stared steadily in front of them, and instead of the eyes of the girl, the eyes of the aged prisoner gazed mournfully at Winston out of nests of hair. - P97
|