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Depiction of women in literature
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Depiction of women in literature
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She is pure and innocent
I am torn and damaged
She is like a child so full of life
But I am a beast whose heart belongs to someone else
There is this women who is fiery and full of passion
She has had my attention from the moment I first laid eyes on her
She is beautiful to me but society rejects her
I must clear her of her reputation
She is different she does no conform to society
She wants to meet..but why?
Why without any plans?
Today has not been my day I feel trapped
I've been with the women who my heart does not belong to
I am finally set free and go see the women I want
I must send flowers to my ¨love¨
There are these flaming red roses that look like they were made exactly for my true love
Should I tell her it was me?
No?Yes?...No.
Lily is thinking “how much older fourteen had made [her]. In the space of a few hours [she’d] become forty years old.” She makes this connection after she realizes that maybe her mother's death could have not been her fault and that it could have been T. Ray’s and he was punishing her for it. This caused Lily to pack “...5 pairs of shorts, tops, ... shampoo, toothpaste...” $38 and a map (41-42). By doing this, it made her feel like she had aged, feeling like a 40 year old.
Since a child, Stargirl had always seemed a bit… off. Her parents seemed to adore her weirdness, they even seemed to encourage it at times. To demonstrate, her parents called her Pocketmouse. They used it to so much that even she started referring to herself as Pocketmouse instead of Susan. But did her parents ever do anything about it? Of course not. She kept the nickname, until she changed it to Mudpie. Then Hullygully. And then Stargirl. But at the time, I knew her as Mudpie.
Catherine, Catherine is who I am. I am a young American-Italian girl, that loves making people happy. Yet I get hurt easily, and can’t make decisions on my own. I lived with ma aunt (Beatrice) and ma uncle (Eddie). Sadly, Eddie died because he snitched to the immigration bureau on ma husband Rodolpho, but you will find out later exactly how he died. For now, all ya need to know it dat it wasn’t a smooth year.
A rose is the ultimate yet simplest sign of love. Billions are sold on Valentine’s Day and countless numbers are sold to epitomize a lover’s feelings throughout the year. The delicate petals, harsh and unforgiving thorns, vivid and deep colors, all of the things associated with a rose go towards it being the best way to sum up a person’s love for another. The rose has often been associated with a sign of romance. The thought of romance is not as appreciated in today’s time period in comparison to, say, fifty years ago. With this in mind, we can examine how the love has changed in symbolism over the years using poetry and literature. “One Perfect Rose” by Dorothy Parker and “Cinderella’s Diary” by Ron Koertge both speak about the beauty and gratitude of being in love, Parker speaks more to the materialistic view of love that has been manifesting over the past century, especially in the American culture while Koertge gives a more humble and earnest viewpoint.
It doesn’t take hours of research to find the typical symbolism behind the most basic colors, white, and red among them. Brides wear white to symbolize purity or virtue. People give white roses as a token of the purity of the heart or the purity of their feelings. Red is associated with passion or love. Men buy the woman he loves, or wants to woe for the evening, red roses to...
Red Scarf Girl, by Ji-Li Jiang, is a memoir about the Cultural Revolution. I chose this book so I could learn from someone who had experienced Cultural Revolution and not from a historian who did not face the terror of being labeled as anti-Communist. I decided to take AP World History because, as a college-level course, it will challenge me to become a more efficient note-taker, studier, and time-manager. The focus on smaller details that influenced an event instead focus on the big event itself will be more engaging.
Now I wanna be the tattoo ink that swims down through the needle in your skin
“Straining his eyes, he saw the lean figure of General Zaroff. Then... everything went dark. Maggie woke up in her bed. “Finally woke up from that nightmare. Man… I miss my brother. Who was that person that my brother wanted to kill?” she looks at the clock and its 9:15am “Crap I’m late for work!” Maggie got in her car and drove to the hospital for work.
I was 2:00 pm a quiet afternoon on the Air Canada Airlines. Everyone was silent until a 50 year old white woman came into the plane and began a rukas. As she arrives to her seat she has a disgusted look on her face. The passenger next to her was a black man who was in his mid 30's minding his own buisness. But he couldn't help notice that there was a furious white woman calling out to the flight attendent. The flight attendent arrived and asked, "What's the problem, ma'am?" The white woman yells at her and says, "Can't you see !? I've been given a seat next to a black man, why would you put me next to such an abomination..., disgracful...,nigger. Change my seat right now!" Everyone in the other seats were very suprised to see how ignorannt this woman was and how she even were to use such words.
Imagine your deepest, darkest secret eating you up inside. You have two choices: fess up and rat out your only friends, or keep everything inside, and suffer mentally and emotionally. This situation actually occurs in the book Red Kayak. Narrating the story himself, Brady Parks, the main character, recalls how he'd been waiting for a ride to school one cold morning in April, accompanied by his two best friends, J.T. and Digger. The three boys saw a red kayak heading out onto the river (thinking it was Mr. DiAngelo, but was instead Mrs. DiAngelo and Ben, their three-year-old son) and, despite the bad weather, neglected to call out any kind of warning. This was because they wanted revenge on Mr. DiAngelo for buying Digger’s grandfather’s property,
We all have our opinions on how well we think we are at reading, I have my opinions and honestly, I think i’m pretty good at reading, but I have evidence and heres why.
Robert Burns was a phenomenal poet that, believe it or not, started a literary tradition (Brown). According to Mary Ellen Brown, he is often referred to as the Pre-Romantic Poet (1-3). Robert Burns created an abundance of poems and love letters that will never be forgotten in the history of the Romantic-Era in literature. His works of art have inspired many young aspiring writers, just as Shakespeare lit a spark in him(Robert Burns 1-5). Robert Burns has created multiple love poems. Including, “Ae Fond Kiss”, ‘Highland Mary”, “To a Mountain Daisy”, and my favorite, “A Red, Red Rose” (Brown 1-3). In these poems, Burns expresses his passion and fondness for not only women but also about the beauty in nature that surrounded him in Scotland. In my personal favorite poem, “A Red, Red Rose”, Burns talks about his burning desire for something or someone. It is not clearly stated in his poem, however, Burns uses nature to describe his heaping passion for either something or someone. Thus, when reading the poem, it is plain to see that the writer of the poem, Robert Burns, is composing a love letter. The poem even starts out by saying “O my Luve is like a red, red rose….” Therefore, the reader can conclude that Robert Burns was comparing the thing or woman he loved to a red rose. When reading this work of art, some could say that Robert Burns was “love-sick” with his
Ever since I was a boy I--I saw things, things that people did not really understand. They did not understand the bond I had with Rose. He was my friend- my only friend- up until my parents gave me away. That is when Rose started speaking to me through a Rose. I knew it was him because when I did something wrong it would start to die. The rose would glare at me, and give me a bad feeling, which is what would make me do things, things that hurt other people. It calls to me in the middle of the night --I hate that he wakes me up -- I have to wake up or he gets angry. One day a girl came in the house, I was shocked no one ever comes to visit. I heard something -- it was the rose- he was telling me to kill her. Rose told me to stab her over and over again, but I could not because I could tell there was something special about her.
As I stand here is Stanley's arms and hear my sister inside, I have so many thoughts that run through my head. I wish Stanley had not told Mitch about what he found out about Blanche's past. I saw how they were getting along, the adoring star's in Mitch's eyes everytime he looked at Blanche, and the contradicting peace and excitment that came over Blanche everytime she waited for Mitch to come and see her. If given time they would have had a chance. A chance at love and happyness. Not the kind of love that hits you like a freight train, like me and Stanley. But more of the gentle love that flows and mingles until it connects two people to the point that they are inseperatable. Everyone has something in their past that they are not proud of and try to hide. Though I am reluctant to beleive the stories that Stanley tells about my sister, I must admit that there could be some truth in what he says, even with his great dislike for my sister, he would not hurt me deliberetly in this way with mistruths.
I have been patiently waiting for my first day of school and it's finally here. I walk through the doors and see all of the kids. All with their own incongruities. Some kids are big, some are small, some are clean, and some are dirty. I finally get to my classroom and my teacher, Miss Caroline Fisher, looks at me with a stern look. I could tell then I was excited to be in school for nothing, but I knew that when she found out how smart I am she'd like me. As class went on I found out that I was wrong.