When Vronsky sees Anna for the first time, he is absolutely entranced by the expressiveness of her appearance. With imagery, the novel paints the first picture of Anna Arkadyevna Karenina:
As he looked back, she also turned her head. Her shining grey eyes, which seemed dark because of their thick lashes, rested amiably and attentively on his face, as if she recognized him, and at once wandered over the approaching crowd as though looking for someone. In that brief glance Vronsky had time to notice the restrained animation that played over her face and fluttered between her shining eyes and the barely noticeable smile that curved her red lips. It was as if a surplus of something so overflowed her being that it expressed itself beyond her will, now in the brightness of her glance, now in her smile. She deliberately extinguished the light in her eyes, but it shone against her will in a barely noticeable smile.
Vronsky’s description of Anna upon first seeing her at the Moscow train station is soulful and subtle. He is captivated by the "restrained animation" on her face and her "barely noticeable smile." Vronsky sees a surplus of life in Anna that exudes from her eyes and her smile. This imagery and therefore Anna's appearance is defined by movement: there is a certain liveliness to her, between her "shining eyes" and the flutter of her expression. This animation later seems painfully ironic, because once Vronsky falls in love with Anna, she slowly becomes less and less alive. Not only does Anna nearly die during in childbirth, but she also becomes so senselessly jealous and distressed that she takes her own life.
At the Moscow ball, Anna Arkadyevna arrives in a striking black velvet dress that catches the eye of everybody in attendance. The novel uses imagery to describe Anna's appearance at the ball through Kitty's envious eyes:
Anna was not in lilac, as Kitty had absolutely wanted, but in a low-cut black velvet dress, which revealed her full shoulders and bosom, as if shaped from old ivory, and her rounded arms with their very small, slender hands. The dress was all trimmed with Venetian guipure lace. On her head, in her black hair, her own without admixture, was a small garland of pansies, and there was another on her black ribbon sash among the white lace. Her coiffure was inconspicuous. Conspicuous were only those wilful little ringlets of curly hair that adorned her, always coming out on her nape and temples. Around her firm, shapely neck was a string of pearls.
Kitty describes Anna only as she wishes herself to look: effortlessly elegant and beautiful apart from the color of her dress. Anna's appearance here is important because Kitty feels overshadowed at the ball, where she was hoping to gain the attention of Vronsky.
The "low-cut black velvet dress" and "Venetian guipure lace" of Anna's dress, as well as her shoulders "shaped from old ivory," have an almost violently seductive connotation, as if Anna is using her beauty as a weapon. Black is also a much more forceful color than violet, proving Anna's power and maturity compared to Kitty. The fact that Kitty was hoping Anna would wear something less striking indicates her jealousy of Anna. At Russian balls, appearances are everything; even the color of a woman's dress can make the difference between a proposal and societal embarrassment.
On the train ride back to Petersburg, Anna experiences a climactic moment that the story brings to life with sensory imagery:
She passed the paper-knife over the glass, then put its smooth and cold surface to her cheek and nearly laughed aloud from the joy that suddenly came over her for no reason. She felt her nerves tighten more and more, like strings on winding pegs. She felt her eyes open wider and wider, her fingers and toes move nervously; something inside her stopped her breath, and all images and sounds in that wavering semi-darkness impressed themselves on her with extraordinary vividness. She kept having moments of doubt whether the carriage was moving forwards or backwards, or standing still.
While reading her book, Anna cannot stop thinking about Vronsky, which leads to an intense and revelatory moment of physical sensation. The description mirrors what one might experience at a sexual climax, which is more explicit than any other scene in the novel. Typically, the narrative uses ellipses to indicate intimacy between two characters. Here, the "smooth and cold" feel of the glass against Anna's cheek brings her bliss. Her nerves are described visually as strings tightening around pegs. The movement of the train becomes uncertain against the movement of Anna's own body.
These bodily reactions demonstrate the opportunity and freedom that await Anna in her relationship with Vronsky—at least for a short time. Her figurative orgasm represents the escape that Anna desires from her life with Karenin. There is even a certain wildness to her behavior here, as if she is just about to break loose from a cage, which foreshadows the risks she will take in the near future with Vronsky.
After getting rejected by Kitty, Levin throws himself into his farm work, taking special note of spring's nature blossoming around him. With vivid imagery, the narrative illustrates the beauty that still surrounds Levin:
Invisible larks poured trills over the velvety green fields and the ice-covered stubble, the peewit wept over the hollows and marshes still filled with brown water; high up the cranes and geese flew with their spring honking. Cattle, patchy, moulted in all but a few places, lowed in the meadows, bow-legged lambs played around their bleating, shedding mothers, fleet-footed children ran over the drying paths covered with the prints of bare feet, the merry voices of women with their linen chattered by the pond, and from the yards came the knock of the peasants’ axes, repairing ploughs and harrows. The real spring had come.
Levin is dejected after Kitty's rejection, so he tries to distract himself from the pain by focusing on the thawing of winter's snow, the sprouting of new plants, and the sounds of rejuvenated animals. Spring has arrived, a period of hope and possibility, represented by the bleating of lambs and the trills of larks. The air is filled with the "merry voices of women" and "the knock of the peasants' axes." These sounds of vitality bring the farmland back to life and represent hope for Levin's future. The innocent and familial joy of nature indicates that Levin will one day be happy, marrying Kitty and having beautiful children with her.
In the country, Levin is his happiest self, illustrated by his use of sensory imagery:
If Levin felt happy in the cattle- and farm-yards, he felt still happier in the fields. Swaying rhythmically to the amble of his good little mount, drinking in the warm yet fresh smell of the snow and the air as he went through the forest over the granular, subsiding snow that still remained here and there with tracks spreading in it, he rejoiced at each of his trees with moss reviving on its bark and buds swelling. When he rode out of the forest, green wheat spread before him in a smooth, velvety carpet over a huge space, with not a single bare or marshy patch, and only spotted here and there in the hollows with the remains of the melting snow.
If Levin loves anything more than Kitty, it is his farm and open spaces. In the open, he can fully experience the "warm yet fresh smell of snow," the mossy bark, and the green swelling of spring. In these sweet smells and vibrant scenes, he can find peace and escape the judgements and refusals of others.
Levin is generally a very shy and humble man, so his wheat carpets offer him a large space to be himself out of the city eye. He even calls the trees “his trees,” which demonstrates the possessiveness he maintains towards his farmlands. The nature buds and blooms like clockwork in the seasons, perfectly imperfect in the way it grows and exists. Just as nature moves through its cycles, so does Levin fulfill his own responsibilities.