...where every morning you wake up, you take a shower, you make your breakfast, and you turn on the news. In this world every morning on the news you hear of thousands of people being killed due to something they can’t control. These people are being targeted for the color of their skin, their religion and whom they love. Imagine that no one speaks up, the mass murder of thousands of innocent people is just the social norm. In a world like that, is there any humanity left? In a world like that, shouldn't we speak up and do something? Elie Wiesel a Nobel Peace Prize winner and the author of “Night” provokes this thought within his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech. In his speech Wiesel makes his point of view on situations such...
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...___________________________ LIVING HISTORY Hillary Rodham Clinton Simon & Schuster New York • London • Toronto • Sydney • Singapore To my parents, my husband, my daughter and all the good souls around the world whose inspiration, prayers, support and love blessed my heart and sustained me in the years of living history. AUTHOR’S NOTE In 1959, I wrote my autobiography for an assignment in sixth grade. In twenty-nine pages, most half-filled with earnest scrawl, I described my parents, brothers, pets, house, hobbies, school, sports and plans for the future. Forty-two years later, I began writing another memoir, this one about the eight years I spent in the White House living history with Bill Clinton. I quickly realized that I couldn’t explain my life as First Lady without going back to the beginning―how I became the woman I was that first day I walked into the White House on January 20, 1993, to take on a new role and experiences that would test and transform me in unexpected ways. By the time I crossed the threshold of the White House, I had been shaped by my family upbringing, education, religious faith and all that I had learned before―as the daughter of a staunch conservative father and a more liberal mother, a student activist, an advocate for children, a lawyer, Bill’s wife and Chelsea’s mom. For each chapter, there were more ideas I wanted to discuss than space allowed; more people to include than could be named; more places visited than could be described...
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