1 Comrade Ogilvy, unimagined an hour ago, was now a fact.
2 In fact there will be no thought, as we understand it now.
3 And so it was with every class of recorded fact, great or small.
4 It struck him as a curious fact that he had never heard a member of the Party singing alone and spontaneously.
5 The tiny interior of the shop was in fact uncomfortably full, but there was almost nothing in it of the slightest value.
6 Just once in his whole life he had held in his hands unmistakable documentary proof of the falsification of an historical fact.
7 In the dream his deepest feeling was always one of self-deception, because he did in fact know what was behind the wall of darkness.
8 After confessing to these things they had been pardoned, reinstated in the Party, and given posts which were in fact sinecures but which sounded important.
9 And when he told her that aeroplanes had been in existence before he was born and long before the Revolution, the fact struck her as totally uninteresting.
10 Parsons, Winston's fellow-tenant at Victory Mansions, was in fact threading his way across the room--a tubby, middle-sized man with fair hair and a froglike face.
11 And yet it was a fact that if Syme grasped, even for three seconds, the nature of his, Winston's, secret opinions, he would betray him instantly to the Thought Police.
12 It was curious that the fact of having held it in his fingers seemed to him to make a difference even now, when the photograph itself, as well as the event it recorded, was only memory.
13 It was merely a few words of encouragement, the sort of words that are uttered in the din of battle, not distinguishable individually but restoring confidence by the fact of being spoken.
14 He was writing the diary for O'Brien--TO O'Brien: it was like an interminable letter which no one would ever read, but which was addressed to a particular person and took its colour from that fact.
15 He had the feeling that he could get inside it, and that in fact he was inside it, along with the mahogany bed and the gateleg table, and the clock and the steel engraving and the paperweight itself.
16 His spectacles, his gentle, fussy movements, and the fact that he was wearing an aged jacket of black velvet, gave him a vague air of intellectuality, as though he had been some kind of literary man, or perhaps a musician.
17 There were times when the fact of impending death seemed as palpable as the bed they lay on, and they would cling together with a sort of despairing sensuality, like a damned soul grasping at his last morsel of pleasure when the clock is within five minutes of striking.
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