[Teta Elzbieta] was part of the machine she tended, and every faculty that was not needed for the machine was doomed to be crushed out of existence. There was only one mercy about the cruel grind – that it gave her the gift of insensibility. Little by little she sank into a torpor – she fell silent. She would meet Jurgis and Ona in the evening, and the three would walk home together, often without saying a word. Ona, too, was falling into a habit of silence – Ona, who had once gone about singing like a bird. (14.5)
"I hit him, sir," said Jurgis.
"Say 'your Honor,'" said the officer, pinching his arm hard.
"Your Honor," said Jurgis, obediently.
"You tried to choke him?"
"Yes, sir, your Honor."
"Ever been arrested before?"
"No, sir, your Honor."
"What have you to say for yourself?"
Jurgis hesitated. What had he to say? In two years and a half he had learned to speak English for practical purposes, but these had never included the statement that some one had intimidated and seduced his wife. (17.49-53)
"Hello, Jack," said the saloonkeeper, when he entered—they call all foreigners and unskilled men "Jack" in Packingtown. (19.53)