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Fate in literature
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She deeply felt awful, her bag was weighing down her bones as she dragged her feet through the dusty pavements. The rain had numbed her lips and her hands shook with sorrow. The night was silent; the city was in a suspended state of existence from the thunderous storm. She wished to be held, in a way that she could not hear the evil demons of the world malignantly reproaching her. Alas, it could not zealously be. For she was Eponine Thenardier, happiness did not belong to her. A heavy body shoved against her accidently, as she was emotionally drained; Eponine violently plunged against the wall without a fight. Her shoulder cracked as she impacted the stony wall. A hand urgently reached out to steady her. “Forgive me, kind Madame! I did not mean to hurt you.” A stranger’s voice hushedly whispered in her dark view, as she straightened herself with as much dignity she could muster; she finally opened her eyes to see who her acquaintance was. The streetlight above glowed brighter as the sky tinted darker, Eponine swore under her breath. It was Cosette’s father, Could nothing be done well? She had desired to run away from people she knew, not into them! “Madame…I know you.” He leant in closer whilst maintain an acceptable distance. “Yes, you do.” She sighed, accepting defeat. Why bother? It was better for her to meet Monsieur Valjean, rather than someone else. “I am Cosette’s friend.” Had she not wanted to make a quick escape, she might have raised an eyebrow at how easily she had called Cosette a “friend”, times truly had changed. “I am visiting my family.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she hoped that the lie would suffice. Over her dead body, she would see her family again. It was because of those corrupted souls that she was here... ... middle of paper ... ...here was a blazing ferocity awaking within him. In desperation, he placed his hand son her shoulders as his remorseful eyes bore into hers. To say that she was somewhat dazed by his self-assurance would be an understatement. “Enjolras, don’t.” The conviction in her voice only sparked that ferocity more. Were they journeying towards another conflict already? “I am at fault as much as you. I kept you in the dark for so long when you deserved to know. Should you have insulted that way? No, but I’m not the innocent woman you see me as.” She placed a finger on top of his icy lips to prevent him from interrupting. From an outsider view, the two looked fairly intimate. “I am not innocent. To some people, I am considered evil; rightly too! Nevertheless…” She inhaled shakily, here she goes. “I am ready to tell you everything, Enjolras. I want to hold nothing away from you.”
“Nick-” she reluctantly drew words. “-Did I ever tell you of the letter Myrtle sent Tom, back in Christmas, about three years ago?” I already knew I didn’t want to have this conversation. I wanted to sit and hold my breath like a toddler until I got my way and she withheld this talk with me.
Under the orders of her husband, the narrator is moved to a house far from society in the country, where she is locked into an upstairs room. This environment serves not as an inspiration for mental health, but as an element of repression. The locked door and barred windows serve to physically restrain her: “the windows are barred for little children, and there are rings and things in the walls.” The narrator is affected not only by the physical restraints but also by being exposed to the room’s yellow wallpaper which is dreadful and fosters only negative creativity. “It is dull enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough to constantly irritate and provoke study, and when you follow the lame uncertain curves for a little distance they suddenly commit suicide – plunge off at outrageous angles, destroy themselves in unheard of contradictions.”
Annette: This is Antoinette’s mother who provides a negative perspective on her daughter’s life. She always needed to be liked by everyone and this personality trait rubbed off on Antoinette, which reflected on her in a negative way later in the novel. “I was bridesmaid when my mother married Mr. Mason in Spanish Town...their eyes slid away from my hating face” (36). Neglected from her family and being less favored by her mother to her brother, Antoinette lives a life without love and peace, but with a lack of respect and with a husband who finds pleasure in asserting his male dominant power over his wife. Unfortunately, Antoinette has got many of her mother’s undesirable characteristics and possibly could have inherited the mental illness
“Will you have the goodness to send me the address of my niece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is. It is my intention to write shortly and desire her to come to see me at Madeira…I wish to adopt her during my life, and bequeath her at my death whatever I may have to leave.” (252)
“His face darkened with some powerful emotion, which, nevertheless, he so instantaneously controlled by an effort of his will, that, save at a single moment, its expression might have passed for calmness.
His grip flexed and twisted on the handle of his sword as he reminded himself that he at the very least needed to the Princess alive until he had turned her in. She went on as he expected her to. Lines that he'd imagined a thousand times over the last few years, listening to them in his mind again and again, and taking a measure of joy in just how he pictured it would all go. And of course after having served under her for so long his prediction was rather accurate. She began with begging and pleading veiled as pleasantries and kindness, with offers to restore everything that she'd stripped from him that day years ago, and ending with such a haughty air as if she thought her offer would assuredly make up for so many years of pain and mockery and loss. She was so desperate to live but that damned false pride of hers would be her undoing.
“Henrietta” I called weakly, she burst into tears and wrapped her arms around my neck and then before I knew it I was back at my house. And Henrietta was holding Montresor to the wall. I saw it before it happened his hand arcing towards Henrietta and before I could cry out he had connected with her temple and she crumpled to the ground. I tried to hide but he knew where I was and that I was trapped. He closed in and then the world slipped away from my consciousness.
When she begins her story she says “I am in fact the daughter of a Pope Urban the tenth and the Princess of Palestrina” and “The women who helped me dress and undress fell into ecstasies, whether they looked at me from in front or behind; and all the men wanted to be in their place” (Voltaire 438). She expresses this fact first, before she tells the rest of what had happened to her, as to boost her own ego, expressing how women only care about how they are presented in society and her social status, than what is happening around them. Further into her story, the Old Woman restates what had happened to her to make herself look sympathetic and vain with “Imagine, if you will, the situation of a pope’s daughter, fifteen years old, who in three months time had experienced poverty, slavery, had been raped every day…” (Voltaire 441). The Old Lady believes that with her beauty she should not have had to suffer as she did, that her beauty is what has allowed her to live. After the story the Old Woman persuades Cunégonde, who shows the shallowness of some women, to use her vanity to stay in Argentina, by marring the mayor to save Cunégonde and the Old Woman, instead of fleeing with Candide. “You cannot escape, she told Cunégonde, and you have nothing to fear. You are not the one who killed my lord, and, besides the governor, who is in love with you, wont’ let you be mistreated. Sit tight” (Voltaire 443). This is to show how society views how women treated as being gold diggers and are willing to use their vanity to gain a better
The Speaker in ‘My Last Duchess’ is conversing with the servant of a count whose daughter he is proposing to marry. He treats t...
According to Webster dictionary the word Happiness in defined as Enjoying, showing, or marked by pleasure, satisfaction, or joy. People when they think of happiness, they think about having to good feeling inside. There are many types of happiness, which are expressed in many ways. Happiness is something that you can't just get it comes form your soul. Happiness is can be changed through many things that happen in our every day live.
Happiness is an inner state of well-being and fulfilment, and therefore it has to come from inside. Every individual has his or her own emotions and way of thinking and as a result of this no one can really say what happiness is and what happiness is not. However, universally, happiness is a by-product of a healthy attitude and viewpoint. Happiness exists in everyone whether they choose to acknowledge and believe it or not. It is not rare nor is it something only the elite have: everyone has it but not everyone recognizes it. Contentment is finding a light at the end of every dark tunnel and in order to experience this we must ignore the pessimism surrounding us and remind ourselves that happiness is not a materialistic object but a choice and frame of mind.
Since her exit of the Ministry of Love, things had fallen back into their usual routine. Or what she assumed was her usual routine- her past was peppered with fake memories. Though it had not been long, Julia felt as though she had aged sixty years. Her hair has lost its luster, and the bags under her eyes were reason enough to avoid mirrors. Not to mention the loathsome scar on her forehead that was a constant reminder of the crimes she had committed. She worked in the Ministry of Truth now, a place she had detested before she had been cured. The job had been handed to her, and she hardly did much except sit around. The task of eliminating records bored her. She could feel her brain cells cringing with every reach towards the file cabinet.
My eyes hollow, I went about my normal routines, preparing me for sleep, dreading the respite, pupils flickering unseeing before me, afraid to blink, fearing the darkness and the images spawning from it. My dreams played across the natural blinds, taunting me with each flutter of my lids, sparks of isolation, suffering, terror, all twisting and twining to form each strike at my heart, flashes of pure hateful white contrasting yet complementing the abandoned black.
Happiness is not what everyone encounters in their life, to meet happiness a person must make sure the world always takes their side and always supports them in every decision they make. Trying to make everyone happy is not going to happen so quickly, many people are never satisfied even when a person breaks their neck to try to make them happy. In a family business no matter how hard you work to make sure your uncle or your aunt’s small business is the best in town, they will always want more. The top man is always expecting more and more work from you. When a person thinks they did so much work that no more could be done, that is the point when “the boss” demands more. The definition of happiness includes “good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.”(Dictionary.com) When people do favor for the public they are never satisfied. Society is never satisfied with what a person contributes therefore, people often believe success is more important than achieving happiness. If society is constantly worried about wanting more, contentment will never be reached. Our parents are a perfect examp...
Their farm was two hundred acres of corn fields, cows, pigs, and, of course, chickens. No farm would be complete without chickens. At the southeast corner of the farm, behind the smaller corn field, was the brook with clear cold water that reached past my knees. On most weekends my family would go to visit our friends, the Tailors, who had at one time seven boys to keep them company. All of them were grown with their own lives to attend to, except for Dan, who stayed on at the farm to help keep up the crops. His younger brother Dave still came back to the farm, from the busy city, to visit and bring his children to see their grandparents. Even though they were about the same age as my brother and I, we did not play with them because they were greedy and didn't suit our playing qualifications by continuously changing rules and cheating. It was rare that we encountered them anyhow, and that suited us fine. Most of the time we would stay the whole weekend. Our parent's elected to sleep in a tent, while my brother and I slept in one of the many cozy bedrooms of the farmhouse. We loved it there and secretly both he and I wished that we could stay forever. There were separate reasons why we loved it there.