The clock struck half past two. In the little office at the back of Mr. McKechnie's bookshop, Gordon--Gordon Comstock, last member of the Comstock family, aged twenty-nine and rather moth-eaten already--lounged across the table, pushing a fourpenny packet of Player's Weights open and shut with his thumb.
George OrwellMan is the only real enemy we have. Remove Man from the scene, and the root cause of hunger and overwork is abolished forever.
George Orwell