Nineteen eight-four - George Orwell
He gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.
यो उद्धारणमा ट्रेन गर्नुहोस्
पाठ सम्पादन गर्नुहोस्
वा केवल कमेन्ट छोड्नुहोस्:
