...THE FRANKLIN'S PROLOGUE These ancient gentle Bretons, in their days, Of divers high adventures made great lays And rhymed them in their primal Breton tongue, The which lays to their instruments they sung, Or else recited them where joy might be; And one of them have I in memory, Which I shall gladly tell you, as I can. But, sirs, because I am an ignorant man, At my beginning must I first beseech You will excuse me for my vulgar speech; I never studied rhetoric, that's certain; That which I say, it must be bare and plain. I never slept on Mount Parnassus, no, Nor studied Marcus Tullius Cicero. Colours I know not, there's no doubt indeed, Save colours such as grow within the mead, Or such as men achieve with dye or paint. Colours of rhetoric I find but quaint; My spirit doesn't feel the beauty there. But if you wish, my story you shall hear." THE FRANKLIN'S TALE In old Armorica, now Brittany, There was a knight that loved and strove, did he To serve a lady in the highest wise; And many a labour, many a great emprise He wrought for her, or ever she was won. For she was of the fairest under sun, And therewithal come of so high kindred That scarcely could this noble knight, for dread, Tell her his woe, his pain, and his distress. But at the last she, for his worthiness, And specially for his meek obedience, Had so much pity that, in consequence, She secretly was come to his accord To take him for her husband and her...
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...What does it mean to grow up? To Holden, of The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger, growing up means having to lose your freedom and becoming ‘phony’. J.D. Salinger also explores other aspects on what it means to grow up, including the many trails one must go through in order to become an ‘adult’. Although Holden explores the idea of growing up, he doesn’t actually change throughout the novel. The Catcher In The Rye is a tragic hero novel because Holden never actually changes even though he has plenty of opportunities to do so, he remains stubborn to his cause of not maturing and letting himself fail at yet another thing. Holden has lost all of his ambitions, he has flunked four out of his five courses. This is the next in the long line of schools that Holden has been flunked out of. But even though Holden has flunked so any ties, it is not intelligence that he lacks but the motivation. He in fact is very intelligent, but doesn't apply himself because he doesn't want to. By doing this he disappoints his family and his teachers who all know that he could be very successful. The fact that his teachers believe in him in shown when Holden visits Mr. Antolini. Mr. Antolini he states to Holden, “I think that one of these days, you’re going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you’ve got to start going there. But immediately. You can’t afford to lose a minute. Not you.” (Lines 29-33, Page 188) This illustrates that he truly believes that Holden has a bright future ahead...
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...Lies lies and more lies 10/13/2014 The screeching of the lie hurts my ear. My biggest fear is now standing in the clear. With his bold face and nice smile Whispering to me, telling me you care when I know you don’t Crushing my inside by all the lies you told Lies lies and more lies I see you coming. I can smell you from a mile away, I know your enticing sweet scent because it’s something I use to wear. I used to hug and hold you, breathe you and feel you Your lying consumes me, it is now a part of me Those bitter-sweet lies on my tongue, leaves me so numb. Lies lies and more lies I’m young and confounded, still telling lies and just can’t rewind it. Just can’t stand it sometimes bursting to come out, clouding my vision with doubt. Lies lies and more lies Trust issues were the tissues he left behind. I know healing takes time and I’m fine with that, as a matter of fact, I can toast to that. Don’t cover me with a lie, it’s a blanket I don’t need. Lies lies and more lies We reap what we sow, trust me I should know. I told so many lies it’s now a constant shadow What began as one, turned into a few. Like a speeding train on an endless track, the first lie was impossible to retract. His lies caressed my mind, harden my heart, changed my soul, lying has taken its toll. Watch what you say and say what you mean. Lying has a need only the week can feed. Lies lies and more lies...
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...Verse 1 - Harry Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain, I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days. [Liam] She told me in the morning she don't feel the same about us in her bones, It seems to me that when I die these words will be written on my stone. Pre-chorus - Zayn And I'll be gone gone tonight The ground beneath my feet is open wide The way that I been holdin' on too tight With nothing in between Chorus - Harry The story of my life I take her home I drive all night to keep her warm and time… Is frozen (the story of, the story of) [All] The story of my life I give her hope I spend her love until she's broke inside The story of my life (the story of, the story of) Verse 2 - Niall Written on these walls are the colours that I can't change Leave my heart open but it stays right here in its cage [Liam] I know that in the morning now, I'll see us in the light upon a hill Although I am broken my heart is untamed stillx Pre-chorus - Louis And I'll be gone gone tonight The fire beneath my feet is burning bright The way that I been holdin' on so tight With nothing in between Chorus - Harry The story of my life I take her home I drive all night to keep her warm and time… Is frozen (the story of, the story of) [All] The story of my life I give her hope I spend her love until she's broke inside The story of my life (the story of, the story of) Bridge - Zayn And I been waiting for this time...
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...I let it fall, my heart, And as it fell you rose to claim it It was dark and I was over Until you kissed my lips and you saved me My hands, they're strong But my knees were far too weak, To stand in your arms Without falling to your feet But there's a side to you That I never knew, never knew. All the things you'd say They were never true, never true, And the games you play You would always win, always win. [Chorus:] But I set fire to the rain, Watched it pour as I touched your face, Well, it burned while I cried 'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name! When I lay with you I could stay there Close my eyes Feel you here forever You and me together Nothing is better 'Cause there's a side to you That I never knew, never knew, All the things you'd say, They were never true, never true, And the games you play You would always win, always win. [Chorus:] But I set fire to the rain, Watched it pour as I touched your face, Well, it burned while I cried 'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name! I set fire to the rain And I threw us into the flames Where it felt something die 'Cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time! Sometimes I wake up by the door, That heart you caught must be waiting for you Even now when we're already over I can't help myself from looking for you. [Chorus:] I set fire to the rain, Watched it pour as I touched your face, Well, it burned while I cried 'Cause I heard...
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...I here, exactly?‖ queried my nineteen-year-old niece as she sat next to me. The lantern I had placed beside us cast flickering light throughout the abandoned tannery‘s darkened interior. Eerie, dust-laden cobwebs clung to every wooden beam, workbench and table, causing her to shudder. I glanced at her innocent face untouched by grief, and wished yet again that I had been born in her day rather than mine. ―For emotional support.‖ ―Then I‘m not in any danger, Aunt Margryte?‖ she asked unsurely. ―Of course not, Geruscha,‖ I said while smoothing down a ruffle in my threadbare black mourning dress. ―Do you know who owns this place?‖ ―I used to. Well, I guess I still do.‖ Memories of better days from decades past superimposed themselves over broken chairs and dilapidated benches. I bit my lip to keep deep inner pain at bay. ―So why don‘t you sell it? Seems structurally intact; surely there‘s a tanner who would buy it from you?‖ ―You ask a lot of questions, Geruscha,‖ I protested. ―You did ask me to come tonight,‖ she pouted. ―So I did. I keep this place because it suits my purposes on the odd occasion, such as tonight,‖ I answered after a moment. Geruscha‘s next question died on her lips when the front door swept open to admit a badly scarred man dressed in the garb of a common mercenary. I laid a hand on her forearm to reassure her. Aged wooden floorboards groaned under unaccustomed weight as the man approached us. Cold eyes met mine, and then studied my niece as though she was a horse...
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...parents openly liked him less than Quintus. This combination of being idolized by his peers but his accomplishments overlooked by his family made him arrogant with an inferiority complex. When going home from a party for Quintus, Julius saw a beggar on the street and decided he couldn't possibly be similar to him. Why, he thought, it's an insult to my natural intelligence and beauty. According to Julius the only explanation for his superiority is that he was a god! Julius was outraged...
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...Examining the use of Despair in the Poetry of Heinrich Heine and Ghalib As I read the poems of Heinrich Heine and Ghalib, I was amazed how they use despair to stir the thoughts and feelings of the reader. At times, my emotions were at first lifted and then quickly let down by their writing style. In some poems, despair seemed to be all that there was for man. In other poems, despair was used to highlight the never-dying hope in man’s soul. This paper will look at how both poets used despair in different ways to comment on life, death and the nature of man. Heine’s poem "A Pine Is Standing Lonely" (Heine 616) symbolizes the despair that he sees in every man’s life. The trees in this poem represent man in two completely different situations. A pine is standing lonely In the North on a plateau. He sleeps; a bright white blanket Enshrouds him in ice and snow. (1-4) In the first two lines, I sensed a calm and peaceful place. The tree sleeps and is covered by a blanket. Lines 3 and 4 made me start to see the despair in the tree’s world. It is covered in ice and snow on a lonely plateau. It is rooted in place and cannot move. There is no escape from the isolation and cold. Heine is suggesting that this is the fate of man. The second verse brings us a different picture of man’s life. He dreams of a palm tree Far away in the Eastern land Lonely and silently mourning On a sunburnt rocky strand. (5-8) The last two lines...
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...It didn't seem important enough for Gerald to point out the doctor's error. Gerald cleared his throat and repeated the question. "Where's my wife? "Well, let's just worry about you for now," the doctor said. Gerald's heart felt like it had just been hit by a semi-truck. He knew what those words meant. Laura didn't make it. And it was his fault. If only I payed more attention to the road... The nurse noticed the painful expression that spread across his face, and tugged the doctor's sleeve. "O-oh, I mean, your wife is fine. I didn't mean to imply any... your wife is fine." The doctor stumbled over his words. He didn't want to feed the patient's delusions, but at the same time he didn't want the patient to become uncooperative, or even violent. They were temporary delusions anyway, so what's the harm? The doctor scribbled again. STRONG delusions Gerald didn't know how to feel. He was angry at the doctor's callousness...
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...kind of kryptonite like a little pea? Did my prince get turned into a frog and he's now hiding in some creepy bog waiting for me to find him? I don't even know how to swim. What's the use of dreaming anymore. No one is beating down my door. I need to be some kind of damsel in distress to get some attention I guess. Where's my Prince Charming? Is there something about me that's alarming? All I get is Prince Pampered who spends his whole life hampered by being royally stuck up. Or there's Prince Never Grow Up who is way too pretty in his curls. All these boys make me want to hurl. Why can't I find a man sized prince who will sweep me off my feet and take me to far away lands. He will hold me with his strong hands and devote his life to me. Is that what I want? Is that what I dream about? If I don't get it, will I forever pout and cry because I didn't get my way? I just want to feel special. I want to feel like they care. I want them to bravely face any challenge for me. Enter my heart if you dare. Lock me in a tower. Make me your precious flower. I want you to battle your way against dragons to win my love today. Quit playing with your toys and prove your worth to me, boys. I promise I will be the perfect princess for you to please. I will be good to you and I won't be a tease... much. Who am I kidding? I'm chasing a dream. They say I got everything in life but it is nothing it seems. Where is my happy...
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...The treacherous waves slammed into the cruiser as if an unstoppable force had met an unmovable object. For the first time this is not the factor that had woken Ralph from a forever interrupting sleep. He instead hears the most soothing thing that deepest desires could ever want; an adults voice. ‘Asmar’ Ralph had overheard as he half tuned into Piggy’s incensed wining voice while he talked to the nurse once again. But as the days before him Ralphs mind was elsewhere, where’s my dad? Ralph pondered as he hung he’s legs off the cool metal bracket suspended in the air holding a slim piece of foam he had called his bed for the last five days. He had now tuned out piggy underneath him and he had tuned out Samneric as they giggled with each other in the bunk opposite them on the other side of the room. and looked down slowly at his dangling feet, Where’s my dad? He questioned himself again as a single tear rolled down he’s right cheek....
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...As our ride to dr. Livesey’s house continued, we noticed something approaching us in the distance. As the mysterious figure drew closer I noticed that it was somewhat of a tall yet chubby man riding in on a golden brown horse. Now as we met on the path the man shouted “Where’s Black dog!” There was a brief moment of silence then I said “He… he’s dead.” I cleared my throat and asked “who are you?” “why my name is Jackson Phillips” he said. We all looked around for a moment before mr. Dance suggested we finish this conversation once we arrive at dr. Livesey’s house. So that’s what we did. It wasn’t to long after that before we made it to the livesey home. As we got off our horses I gave mr. Jackson a firm handshake practically breaking my fingers....
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...journey, are fresh out of medical school and are prepping for their first surgery: a heart transplant. Since these two heroes desired to be doctors, but didn’t want to actually attend school or do any of the work, they twaddled their way to the top. Miraculously, Dell Children's Hospital in Austin, TX has hired Tree and Cones to perform an operation that could determine their future in the medical field forever. Therefore, having little to no experience with anything related to medicine, this surgery is set up to be a complete failure. On their first day, the intercom of the hospital announces, “Dr. Tree and Dr. Cones to the ER. Dr. Tree and Dr. Cones to the ER,” telling our heroic doctors that they...
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...Gun Rights Jordyn Rynbrandt 3rd Hour Not everyone is going to agree on gun rights. People either agree that it’s the guns fault others die when shot, or disagree, and say it’s the person's fault. These days we like to blame the guns not the psychotic people doing the crime. Makes sense though right? Why not let Obama take away the second amendment and ruin our freedoms? It just makes sense. Many people are on board so why not just join them? If someone breaks into your house and tries to hurt you and your family and you shoot them in self defense, it’s the guns fault he now has a bullet wound. Will the man get in trouble for shooting someone in self defense? Most likely, but why? I thought it was the guns fault… 1. Trying to Make it Illegal....
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...Greene Peter Morton woke with a start to face the first light. Rain tapped against the glass. It was January the fifth. He looked across a table on which a night-light had guttered into a pool of water, at the other bed. Francis Morton was still asleep, and Peter lay down again with his eyes on his brother. It amused him to imagine it was himself whom he watched, the same hair, the same eyes, the same lips and line of cheek. But the thought palled, and the mind went back to the fact which lent the day importance. It was the fifth of January. He could hardly believe a year had passed since Mrs Henne-Falcon had given her last children’s party. Francis turned suddenly upon his back and threw an arm across his face, blocking his mouth. Peter’s heart began to beat fast, not with pleasure now but with uneasiness. He sat up and called across the table, “Wake up.” Francis’s shoulders shook and he waved a clenched fist in the air, but his eyes remained closed. To Peter Morton the whole room seemed to darken, and he had the impression of a great bird swooping. He cried again, “Wake up,” and once more there was silver light and the touch of rain on the windows. Francis rubbed his eyes. “Did you call out?”‘ he asked. “You are having a bad dream,” Peter said. Already experience had taught him how far their minds reflected each other. But he was the elder, by a matter of minutes, and that brief extra interval of light, while his brother still struggled in pain and darkness, had given him self-reliance...
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