1 The voice from the telescreen paused.
2 Always the eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you.
3 'Just the man I was looking for,' said a voice at Winston's back.
4 It struck Goldstein's nose and bounced off; the voice continued inexorably.
5 It resembled the face of a sheep, and the voice, too, had a sheep-like quality.
6 Oh, comrade,' she began in a dreary, whining sort of voice, 'I thought I heard you come in.
7 At the table on his left the man with the strident voice was still talking remorselessly away.
8 Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable.
9 The dull rhythmic tramp of the soldiers' boots formed the background to Goldstein's bleating voice.
10 The voice of Goldstein had become an actual sheep's bleat, and for an instant the face changed into that of a sheep.
11 The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall.
12 Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron.
13 Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig-iron and the overfulfilment of the Ninth Three-Year Plan.
14 People were leaping up and down in their places and shouting at the tops of their voices in an effort to drown the maddening bleating voice that came from the screen.
15 He could not now remember whether it was before or after having the dream that he had seen O'Brien for the first time, nor could he remember when he had first identified the voice as O'Brien's.
16 Instead, a clipped military voice was reading out, with a sort of brutal relish, a description of the armaments of the new Floating Fortress which had just been anchored between Iceland and the Faroe Islands.
17 At those moments his secret loathing of Big Brother changed into adoration, and Big Brother seemed to tower up, an invincible, fearless protector, standing like a rock against the hordes of Asia, and Goldstein, in spite of his isolation, his helplessness, and the doubt that hung about his very existence, seemed like some sinister enchanter, capable by the mere power of his voice of wrecking the structure of civilization.
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