Everyone is faced with trials and tribulations throughout their whole life. The saying “life is 10% what happens to you and 90% is your attitude towards it” was made famous by well known Christian extraordinaire, Charles R. Swindle. I strongly agree with this statement and try to live my life by it. In “The Help”, we spend some time getting to know two of the ladies in this story, Minny Jackson and Celia Rae Foote. Now these ladies could hardly be any more different, however they seem to be dependent
Eulogy for Grandmother I looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed the lines of my face and the curve of my neck. I looked down at my hands remembering the moment I first realized that they looked like hers. Long, thin, delicate hands perfect for playing the piano or braiding cornrows. All my life I had not noticed until the day I sat at her bedside holding her hand in mine. She had told me that she was not afraid to die. We sat in silence for a long time, sometimes sharing a stare and a smile
The sun has going down, yet I still can look through her mesmerizing eyes pleading to me for the nth time. Hope this is not true, hoping that all of my statement is nothing, like I just want to tease her with my joke, one of my really bad joke, and after that we could be all together and feel the other presence as always. But these 3 years we had shared together, all moment we could not forget easily, will become our last secret, which others wouldn’t know. Nothing had come from my mouth, as well
"I love you, Allie!" Mark's voice came through the trees. Even through the pounding hooves and sound of the ultralight, the words were surprisingly distinct. Allie reached the edge of the dense woods and slowed accommodate the thickening of branches and brush. Jay tried to keep up, but began to lose sight of them as they zigzagged through the woods. "Allie! Wait!" he called. Shock of shocks, she stopped. The pack horses crowed in around her. The ultralight swooped past at about the same time Jay
I have 2 big sisters, Elizabeth and Jodie. Eli is 5 and Jodie is almost 2 years older than me. My father had raised us alone, because my mother was died when I was 7. The days that time were really hard for everyone. She was very cheerful and kind. All of my memories what were made with my mum are precious still now. But it was ten years ago, time have passed and we are good now. I have a relative good relationship with my sisters, eminently with my oldest. … I turned the key in the lock and opened
Phoenix Jackson One could view Phoenix Jackson as an old granny who might be a little crazy in the head. Another could describe Phoenix as a frail elderly woman who has lived through a lot of life's history. Either accusation could probably be proven true to a certain degree. Phoenix Jackson carries those traits along with many more. Phoenix Jackson was a free-spirited, caring, and gentle elderly Negro woman who lived only to save her grandson's life. Phoenix Jackson was a tough woman for her age
It is the complexity of the main characters and their interactions that make A Streetcar Named Desire such a successful and challenging play. The play A Streetcar Named Desire made playwright Tennessee William's name and has deservedly since had over half a century of success. This remarkable success can be credited to the intricate characters and their interactions with each other. Sisters, Stella and Blanche have had an enjoyable upbringing on the family plantation, "Belle Reve". As the name suggests
About being unable to spend every night with her, he was sorry. About her being confined to the hospital, he was sorry. He was sorry that her fever never left 104.9 degrees fahrenheit and he was sorry that all he could ever do was hold her hand and wait for her body to heal. There was so little he could do, and now there were only two words that described him: desperate and helpless. Roy rested his head on the edge of the bed. It wasn't a coma she was in, per se, but it was still pretty damn dangerous
Then she looked at me. I thought that she was looking at me for the first time. But then, when she turned around behind the lamp and I kept feeling her slippery and oily look in back of me, over my shoulder, I understood that it was I who was looking at her for the first time. I lit a cigarette. I took a drag on the harsh, strong smoke, before spinning in the chair, balancing on one of the rear legs. After that I saw her there, as if she'd been standing beside the lamp looking at me every night.
Time catches up with you. There is no doubt about it, and there is no way you are ever going from escape it. That's the harsh truth. It's not something you often think about, is it? Especially when you are young, why would it be? But as you grow older, much older that is, it beats harmoniously with the rhythm of your heart and becomes a constant reminder to you of what has been and what will be. But time is, of course, beautiful, and every moment should be cherished because time is absolutely
Klarissa stirred her spoon in wide circles, watching her cereal-islands flood. She picked up the newspaper, skimming the front page article about the Orochimaru—the famous black-turned-white pop singer. She popped off the cap to her sharpie, drew a speech-bubble, and scribbled, "I like little boys," inside. It was quiet. The clock ticked. One of the tenants upstairs was fighting with their spouse again. Klarissa set her head down in her arms, and shut her eyes tightly. She wiped down the counters
the 21st century female and makes her look twice. This is better than having a broken arm from showing off, so it’s something to consider. Since being a gentleman implies dressing in a suit, shoes polished, soft hands and being boring, let’s set the record straight. A guy should be a gentleman in order to like himself better, to be able to balance the roughness with a smoother side. It doesn’t have to be one way or the other. Knowing how to incorporate being a gentleman is a change of lifestyle but
The sun hung lazily in the sky and Alison gave a relieved smile. She looked around and drank the scene around her. How she enjoyed the sound of the birds that sang around and flew gently above them, as they began to venture on to the secret path. The young Amir had seen her in the distance and came running towards her, his face beaming with excitement as he held his arms out ready to embrace his new friend. Alison held her arms out and smiled happily, as they both hugged gently. “You returned,” Amir
The place was quiet...as quiet as it was cold. There were no fancy lights adorning the shabby little cabin, but newspapers and used cardboards sealed the cracks and holes that plagued its wooden walls. There was no laughter of merry family members sitting around a sumptuous meal celebrating the season. But in the dark and tiny kitchen stood an empty, scratch infested table that hadn't had the company of its masters since the summer that had just passed. Just beside the kitchen, in a room barely
“What have I done… What have I done….” Grace didn’t understand this feeling, the guilt that coursed through her veins, seemed to bubble as Grace sat at the window of her family’s caravan, The soft rock and roll that feel from the small radio in her mobile sanctuary seemed to be the only thing that kept her calm these days. The those who opposed them, hunters were not known as a soft people, they were warriors, uncompromising, ready to go to any means to destroy the monsters that plagued their earth
Not everyone born to be a wealthy. Not everyone can be cuddled by their parents. Yogi, the ten years old boy, who had a disorder caused by polio when he was a baby lived with her mother in Jakarta. He couldn’t walk properly as other kids. He didn’t have any friends. He never played with other kids. What he did just work to get money. His father had passed away when he was 4 years old. His mother was a housekeeper. She didn’t care enough about Yogi. She also didn’t know if Yogi was working. In her
"To His Coy Mistress" is a very interesting poem. The main plot of the poem is about this guy that tries to pick up a girl for the night. The poem does not tell about the setting. I assumed that it was in a bar, because of the way he talked to her and that is where most guys go to pick up a girl for the evening. We see this poem through the eyes of the guy, by doing this Marvell gives a look into his mind and what he is thinking. This helps to bring the reader into the poem. It allows the reader
“Unconfirmed reports from Rikkers Islands says that one of their inmates hasescaped, and may be in the vacinity,” the DJ on Amy Batts’s car radio reported. ‘Great. Another thing to worry about,’ Amy thought as she pulled her car into the parking garage. “It is rumored that the prisoner that alledgedly escaped as a distingising tatoo on his right hand. Its suppossedly of a snake wrapped around a young girl,’ the DJ was saying as Amy parked her car. It was almost 8:30 on Tuesday night at Smith
Mrs. Sinico's character is not the main character in the story. We read the story mostly from the point of view, thoughts and inspirations of Mr. Duffy, thus he is the main source through which we can observe her character, along side with other sources, such as her family and after her death, from a newspaper article and witnesses: " The deceased had been in the habit of crossing the lines late at night from platform to platform...", "Captain Sinico, of Leoville, Sydney Parade, husband of the deceased
The lovers meet in secluded places. Tonight, it is the little cafe on the Rue de La ____. They hide their fears from each other, just as they hide their faces from passers-by. They are so very discreet. The warm wind reminds them of the passage of time, and they stand as one person. He leaves a tip. Glancing about, they melt into the crowd, only to meet once more at the street. A nod, a smile, and then he hails a cab. He holds the door for her, then closes it. He overpays the driver, turns abruptly