"Both of them knew--in a way, it was never out of their minds that what
was now happening could not last long. 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. But there were also times when they had the
illusion not only of safety but of permanence. So long as they were
actually in this room, they both felt, no harm could come to them.
Getting there was difficult and dangerous, but the room itself was
sanctuary. It was as when Winston had gazed into the heart of the
paperweight, with the feeling that it would be possible to get inside
that glassy world, and that once inside it time could be arrested. Often
they gave themselves up to daydreams of escape. Their luck would hold
indefinitely, and they would carry on their intrigue, just like this,
for the remainder of their natural lives. "
-1984, George Orwell
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