1 He stopped, turned aside and pressed a switch on the wall.
2 There was a bed against the wall, and a lamp on the table, turned down very low.
3 She was standing near a doorway in the wall, under a street lamp that hardly gave any light.
4 At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall.
5 On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall.
6 When he came into the canteen she was sitting at a table well out from the wall, and was quite alone.
7 The thing had been plastered on every blank space on every wall, even outnumbering the portraits of Big Brother.
8 The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall.
9 On the far side of the room there was a small bar, a mere hole in the wall, where gin could be bought at ten cents the large nip.
10 And what he wanted, more even than to be loved, was to break down that wall of virtue, even if it were only once in his whole life.
11 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.
12 Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window.
13 He was standing in front of a wall of darkness, and on the other side of it there was something unendurable, something too dreadful to be faced.
14 It aroused in Winston dim memories of something seen long ago on a wall or a hoarding--a vast bottle composed of electric lights which seemed to move up and down and pour its contents into a glass.
15 Soon he was within arm's length of the girl, but the way was blocked by an enormous prole and an almost equally enormous woman, presumably his wife, who seemed to form an impenetrable wall of flesh.
16 Or to bang his head against the wall, to kick over the table, and hurl the inkpot through the window--to do any violent or noisy or painful thing that might black out the memory that was tormenting him.
17 To the right of the speakwrite, a small pneumatic tube for written messages, to the left, a larger one for newspapers; and in the side wall, within easy reach of Winston's arm, a large oblong slit protected by a wire grating.
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