Above there was the sun, and the sun was white like the clouds, because it is never yellow when one looks at it from high in the air. He was still flying the Spitfire. His right hand was on the stick, and he was working the rudder bar with his left leg alone. It was quite easy. The machine was flying well, and he knew what he was doing. Everything is fine, he thought. I'm doing all right. I'm doing nicely. I know my way home. I'll be there in half an hour. When I land I shall taxi in and switch
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The Catcher In t he Rye Dialogue Journal By Mary Katongole What the Book Says | Character Analysis / Holden | Chapter 1“If you really to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know…and what a lousy childhood was like, ………but I don’t feel like going into it, if you’ll want to know the truth.” (Salinger 1.) | I can tell this novel is going to be in first person. From what I can tell
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looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else. So she was always called Little Red Riding Hood. One day her mother said to her, "Come, Little Red Riding Hood, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when
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but both his helmet and his breastplate were dulled from travel and battered from use. Dark, deep-set eyes shone with a feverish, urgent light in a face that seemed to have had every spare scrap of flesh boiled away. He wore no sword - none was allowed in Niall's presence - but he seemed poised on the edge of violence, like a hound awaiting the loosing of the leash. Twin fires on long hearths at either end of the room held off the late winter cold. It was a plain, soldier's room, really, everything
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The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint−Exupery The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint−Exupery Table of Contents The Little Prince...................................................................................................................................1 Chapter 1 ..............................................................................................................................................2 Chapter 2 .......................................................................
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up close, he didn't like the looks of them any more than he had the first time he'd seen them. The dog was part of it. He wasn't fond of German shepherds, and this one, though he was standing quietly, reminded him of Panther, the police dog that rode with Deputy Kenny Moore and was quick to bite suspects in the crotch at the slightest command. Most of the time he regarded Moore as an idiot, but he was still just about the closest thing to a friend that Clayton had in the department, and he had to admit
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(Latoya) stated she is having problems with Dewayne stealing. Today, 11/15/17, mom, Dewayne, Catharine (second reporter), Ms. Starks (teacher) and Mr. Barnes (principal) had a meeting concerning the child being suspended and taking things that are not his. He takes other people cell phones and money at school. Mom said she went to Vicksburg today and when she returned she went to her mother’s house (Constance). While at the home her brother (Tommy) girlfriend (Tanga) called and asked if she could use her
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friends Said and Khaled in present day Islam-oriented Palestine, In Nablas on the West Bank. Nablas is a sort of slum type area; there are many parts in the movie where we see the buildings are broken down and ruined. For example, Said and Khaled both live with their whole family in their shack style houses that look like beat up apartments, when it shows them sleeping they are sleeping on simple mats on the floor, instead of a real bed or even a spring mattress. The opening scene shows Said is shown
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edge; to her left, the blue and gold of the scillas and daffodils splashed in rich abundance between the trees of the Fellows' Gardens. Yet as she leaned over the stone parapet of the bridge on which she stood, her face was pensive and her feet— and this was unusual in the daughter of a professor of classics in the year 1912— were folded in the fifth position. She was a thin girl, brown-haired and brown-eyed, whose gravity and gentleness could not always conceal her questing spirit and eagerness for life
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girl to have looked to be about my age, wearing a dirty blue and white striped uniform. She didn"t have any shoes on, her hair was a mess. Dirt had stained her face and her face was as puffy as a balloon. I can tell she had been crying for days and days. She was a skeleton with skin and she had a tattoo running down her forearm. I knew who she was. I knew where she came from, and I knew where she belonged. She must have been no older than five years old . The right thing to do was tell my mom and
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