1 I've tried all over the place.
2 'We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness,' he had said.
3 Finally they had emerged into a noisy, crowded place which he had realized to be a Tube station.
4 A kilometre away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.
5 At this moment his mother was sitting in some place deep down beneath him, with his young sister in her arms.
6 In no case would it have been possible, once the deed was done, to prove that any falsification had taken place.
7 Everything had a battered, trampled-on look, as though the place had just been visited by some large violent animal.
8 It was terribly dangerous to let your thoughts wander when you were in any public place or within range of a telescreen.
9 There was no law, not even an unwritten law, against frequenting the Chestnut Tree Cafe, yet the place was somehow ill-omened.
10 It seemed to breathe out of his skin in place of sweat, and one could have fancied that the tears welling from his eyes were pure gin.
11 Winston and his mother and father found themselves a place on the floor, and near them an old man and an old woman were sitting side by side on a bunk.
12 Winston was just taking his place in one of the middle rows when two people whom he knew by sight, but had never spoken to, came unexpectedly into the room.
13 They were down in some subterranean place--the bottom of a well, for instance, or a very deep grave--but it was a place which, already far below him, was itself moving downwards.
14 It was a place impossible to enter except on official business, and then only by penetrating through a maze of barbed-wire entanglements, steel doors, and hidden machine-gun nests.
15 It was a dark, dirty, miserable place where hardly anybody had enough to eat and where hundreds and thousands of poor people had no boots on their feet and not even a roof to sleep under.
16 So tricky a piece of work would never be entrusted to a single person: on the other hand, to turn it over to a committee would be to admit openly that an act of fabrication was taking place.
17 He did not remember the raid itself, but he did remember his father's hand clutching his own as they hurried down, down, down into some place deep in the earth, round and round a spiral staircase which rang under his feet and which finally so wearied his legs that he began whimpering and they had to stop and rest.
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