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I’ve always taken after my dad, so it should not have been a surprise when my reading habits took after him too. My whole life I have been able to sit and read for hours on end without disturbance, however as I began to read your book The Book Thief I felt a shift. It wasn't your book per say. It was more like the entrance to a new era. The hours I spent on the fantastical worlds turned into minutes, and the time I spent with my mom became time spent with my father. It just took your book to realize what was truly happening. I was growing up. “I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.” In my life I have seen both sides. I have loved words dearly. The library was a jungle ripe with
Words are instinctive—the fundamental expression of thoughts secondary to thoughts. They are, indeed, the translations of thoughts, the inexact and practical interpretations of them. They communicate with the people. Words are imperfect by nature. In the dialogues between Hylas and Philonous, Berkeley knows words to be imperfect.
When discussing something like words and ideas it seems much simpler to allow someone who has done both for a living do it for you. This quote, quite succinctly, summarizes language, and ...
How could anybody ever steal from me? Whenever I was young, stealing was introduced to me at church, where we learned that “you shall not steal”. Those values are instilled in me and I assumed everybody had the same values that I have. I was wrong.
One aspect of reading that I enjoy is getting so wrapped up in the story. When the character's heart pounds, my heart pounds. When they hold their breath, I hold my breath. It feels like I'm there in the story. I get absorbed in the plot and take in every detail. A challenge I have regarding reading is that I tend to stop in the middle of a series if the beginning of the book isn't very interesting. I want to read further, but I end up procrastinating until it gets lost under my bed. I am hoping to improve my reading this year by remembering to look up word I don't know. This will help me to better understand whatever story I am reading. My favorite text from last year was definitely The Book Thief. This compelling novel always kept me on the
My earliest memories can be found at the hands of paperback novels. Books were my escape from the world around me. The thrill of being able to leave behind the world and it’s baggage and enter another that books provided captivated me, and left an impact on me. The emotion I experienced solely from taking a small step into another person’s story was unlike any I had felt before. I desperately wanted others to feel what I had felt, and love whatever I had become entranced by with the same passion as I did.
Words are what we use to communicate everyday. Whether we use them to write or speak, These words can impact the emotions of others. These emotions cause relationships to form, people to live and people to die in The Book Thief by Mark Zusak and Night by Elie Wiesel.
Instead of mom reading children’s books to me, I read them to her. And if I stumbled upon something I didn’t know or understand, mom helped me out! Soon enough I started reading to her without stuttering of not knowing how to say a word. I started being able to sound out words easier and my fluency became much better than before. First grade came around and I started reading bigger books such as Junie B. Jones and also the Magic Treehouse books. Books became easier to read as I aged and the books I read were getting bigger and bigger. In 5th and 6th grade I read The Red Pyramid, The Throne of Fire, and The Serpents Shadow, a trilogy called The Kane Chronicles written by Rick Riordan. I thought these three books were the greatest three books ever written! I even thought they were better than the hunger games! Especially with the series being based around Egyptian gods and theology, and also managed to tie in kids around my age that I could relate to. Those books made me love reading more than I ever have and I would read them again if I had the time to. Once 8th grade came out along I decided to read a “big boy” book: DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. I thought I was so cool because I was reading a book that my parents have read. It has been the best book I have yet to read so far because it sparked my interest from the first sentence, to the last, there was intense suspense throughout the whole book and I could nonstop
I began to read not out of entertainment but out of curiosity, for in each new book I discovered an element of real life. It is possible that I will learn more about society through literature than I ever will through personal experience. Having lived a safe, relatively sheltered life for only seventeen years, I don’t have much to offer in regards to worldly wisdom. Reading has opened doors to situations I will never encounter myself, giving me a better understanding of others and their situations. Through books, I’ve escaped from slavery, been tried for murder, and lived through the Cambodian genocide. I’ve been an immigrant, permanently disabled, and faced World War II death camps. Without books, I would be a significantly more close-minded person. My perception of the world has been more significantly impacted by the experiences I've gained through literature than those I've gained
My dad taught me that books could be my teachers, my mom taught me that our backyard could be my classroom, and my sister showed me that you could bring books into the swimming pool. I did not know it when I would spend hours in the pool reading a book that my parents weren’t encouraging it in vain, but my family life, for good reason, was centered on books. We were the planets orbiting around one sun that was the bookshelf. Little did I know that books would be the catalyst to academic success in my early life, and I owe it all to my family. Although a life with a book in your nose might seem boring, I was never bored. Living through the characters vicariously, I explored Narnia with Lucy, attended Hogwarts with Harry, and rode dragons with Eragon. Of course
Before reading Harry Potter, I very rarely read for pleasure. I found reading boring, almost old fashioned. My frame of mind more readily paralleled Danny Divito in the movie Matlida, who says that “[t]here's nothing you can get from a book that you can't get from a television faster.” While my view of reading as a child could be summed up in that quote, everything changed when I was introduced to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I can remember to this day when my Dad began reading Harry Potter to me, and how I did not understand just how much this book would change me. Harry Potter and his world of wizardry became my own personal Shangri-La, my escape, my own world. Anytime I wanted, I could ascend to a world of fantasy and explore the depths of my own imagination in a way that I had never been capable of doing before. I became obsessed with the book, reading it before, during, and after sc...
Today I was walking to school when a car was going past. The ancient car was covered with rust and grime. Just as the car was beside me, it backfired. A cloud of brown smoke made it hard to breathe or see anything, finally as the smoke cleared, I realized something about it had left me as a furry small brown kitten. I had to somehow show my mom what just happened to me.
If one were to look at my varied reading habits, they would be struck by the diversity and over all unusualness of my mind’s library. I hardly remember the plot of the first book I read, but it was called Lonesome Dove. It wasn’t the actual first book I read, but I don’t really count the McGregor Readers from kindergarten. I read it in first grade because of my Grandmother’s fascination in the T.V. mini-series that was playing during the time. I wanted to be able to talk to her about it so I went to the public library that weekend and picked up a copy. Well, I actually didn’t pick it up, it was too heavy. It took me over two and a half months to read, but with the help of a dictionary and my grandma, I finally read it from cover to cover. I can’t really say that I understood it, because I don’t recall what it was about. But I do remember that it was quite an ordeal. Since then I have read many books. I enjoy fiction the best, especially those that are based on society, but have a small twist that leads to an interesting story. Some of the stories that I remember best from that early time in my life are Tales from Wayside Elementary School, Hatchet, The Godfather, and The Giver. I think that Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen, is the only book that I’ve read more than once. I liked the situation that Brian was put into, lost in the wilderness, with nothing more to fend for himself with than his mind and a trusty hatchet. The adversity he faces and his undying drive are what fascinated me most. Since that time my reading habits have grown into a different style. I have usually only read what was assigned to me during the school year because that was all I had time to do, but I have always strived to put forth extra effort. For example: last year for English 3 AP we had to read an excerpt from Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography. Although that we only had to read a small bit, I checked the entire book from the college library and read it all. Although the way that Franklin rambled on and on about his “Franklin Planner” was somewhat boring, the way he describe his life was pure poetry.
Fluorescent lights, the pungent smell of hairspray and adverts left and right of tabs soda. Drowned by the lights a conversation was taking place between mother an daughter. Leah Douglas was begging for her mother to get wit the times and let her get what all the other popular kids were getting. The topic at hand was a perm, Leah desperately wanted one, however, her mother refused, deeming it inappropriate take for a girl her age. Leah was already able to sneak some eyeliner, she wasn’t about to test her limits by further arguing with her mother. With her parents to her side, Leah knocked on her aunt's door. It was Thanksgiving and going to their aunt Gracie’s was a tradition in the Douglas household. Gorging herself with the sloppy joe’s and sauce
No one heard anything from the family in the controlled household until November 1949. They had names, but they'd rather not say. The family there had two children, an eleven year old boy and a thirteen year old girl, who were both homeschooled. Swinging on the swings everyday and coming in at nine every morning, the children kept their playing to a minimum.
I come back from school to find boxes from outside the garage, I stumbled up the stairs just predicting that my parents were donating them to some shelter. Strolling to my bedroom, I find everything packed in bubble wrap and stored in boxes. Footsteps began to approach my door, I quickly take a coat hanger and hide in the corner of my closet, a man comes into my bedroom, he’s dressed in baggy jeans and he's very muscular. He begins to search for objects that he can take, the man finds my laptop, he grasps it and begins to proceed down stairs. After trembling for the past ten minutes, my mom hollers for me.