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Literary essay on pilgrim's progress
Literary essay on pilgrim's progress
Literary essay on pilgrim's progress
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I write to you to tell you about my trip across the Atlantic and the experiences of that long trip. The ship was big in size but with all the fellow Christians made for a small living area. Our rations were small and consisted of daily porridge, bread, and stale water. As a sailor on the ship, I had the opportunity to get lost in my work by its repetitive nature. The crew and passengers were getting agitated and we were all looking for a change of scenery. During our voyage at sea, the crew and I experienced a horrible storm. The ship was tossed around the ocean in a continuous pattern causing an intolerable rocking. Many passengers were sick due to the nonstop swaying of the ship. The waves crashed over the ship making for wet gear and clothing. The furious cold winds from the north and heavy rains that came from all directions. Until one day God from above looked …show more content…
He came upon the bow of the ship and asked for us to gather around. The sermon captured the attention of many and had quite and audience before the end was near. I listened to the sermon and Minister Winthrop spoke about the class system, kindness, and act as a community.
As depicted by his sermon, I believe the class system exists to make us work for our income and to spread the wealth. As of now I do not know the margin between saving money and giving money to others. I’m not in a position to do so at this time but when I get settled in the New Land I will start my homestead. I can’t give money to others but I can share my experience and knowledge to others and help the community. Minister Winthrop continues to speak about kindness to others. This couldn’t have come at a better time while on this ship. The close proximity of others and lack of privacy has been putting a toll on peoples tolerance. The minister spoke of being kind to others and to be grateful for the things that you possess. I believe we all could learn from this point and pass it on to
The window was cold to the touch. The glass shimmered as the specks of sunlight danced, and Blake stood, peering out. As God put his head to the window, at once, he felt light shining through his soul. Six years old. Age ceased to define him and time ceased to exist. Silence seeped into every crevice of the room, and slowly, as the awe of the vision engulfed him, he felt the gates slowly open. His thoughts grew fluid, unrestrained, and almost chaotic. An untouched imagination had been liberated, and soon, the world around him transformed into one of magnificence and wonder. His childish naivety cloaked the flaws and turbulence of London, and the imagination became, to Blake, the body of God. The darkness lingering in the corners of London slowly became light. Years passed by, slowly fading into wisps of the past, and the blanket of innocence deteriorated as reality blurred the clarity of childhood.
THE PAST :.. In days gone by, the four species managed to live in perfect harmony. Witches, werewolves and vampires lived in secret, blending in with the humans on a daily basis - and the humans remained completely in the dark about their existence. It was after thousands of years of living this way, whilst everything was completely normal, that a small group of vampires decided that they’d had enough. They spent months devising plans.
The previous week they had performed the spell successfully. After contacting Mordred, Merlin and Morgana had arranged to meet him and Aglain, the leader of the druid camp, in the woods near a small waterfall, halfway between Camelot and the grave of Gorlois. Morgana always went on her annual pilgrimage to her father's tomb at this time of the year, at the end of spring.
Brock awoke to the sound of a trumpet. He was ready to get training. Brock put on his long johns, pants, shirt, coat, and hat. Then he slowly walked out of his tent. When he walked out he was greeted by Major General Wayne. He said, “Follow me i'll show you where you will be training.” Brock followed him for a about a mile until they walked into a large field with hundreds of saddled horses, and about 80 other men. Major General Wayne said,
The fog was heavy, the distance we were able to see was less than 30 yards from our position.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
...as nothing to do but swim, sight see, and watch TV. It was all worth it on the morning of the fourth day when I came down it to the lobby and saw our bus, triumphantly pulling into the parking lot with the morning sun gleaming off the shiny metal, driven by none other than, our youth pastor. Completely forgetting about breakfast I ran outside and waved to him as he pulled it around back to park. As soon as he came to a stop I ran up to the door, he opened it, and I climbed up in and with a satisfied sigh I inhaled deeply taking in the smell I had grown to miss over the last three days. It was at this moment that I realized something, instead of complaining to myself the morning we left, I should have been grateful that we had a bus at all. And with that thought I smiled, and turned around and me and my youth pastor walked inside to get some breakfast.
He brushed the snow off his shoulder and lamented the fact that he had forgot, yet again, to don his cloak. He walked through the forest, still carrying the standard of his kingdom of Ydri-Kurdish. It’s rippling darkness with that one sword in it’s heart emboldened him, and he walked forward still. He left behind the scene of his own battle against the terrible beast he deemed Kuris. He checked the map again, and saw that he was more lost than previously thought.
Honey, this has been the longest year of my life, life here is absolutely terrible. It’s only been a year since I have been ranked to Specialist E-7 and sent to Verdun and it has been nothing but pure chaos. As of Last week the 21st of February at 7:12 AM the first shot from a German Krupp landed at Verdun. Lifting up your head you can only see bullets flying everywhere nonstop, it’s a constant battle for land and to weaken the oppositions army. We were told to stay low until ordered to fire, but then our Commanding Officer almost forced us into charging into the Krauts Trenches. Luckily they chose to send a different divisions to risk their lives, God bless their souls. Though since they charged we got bombarded with hundreds of shells the next few days. Disease ran rapid as well, such as Trench Foot it has been a major disease here, my friend Private John Huberts shot himself in his foot after getting this disease, he’s been sent back to Dijon to be treated ever since I haven’t heard from him since. The mud is the second worst part of these trenches, though the constant Rats running around definitely take the cake, every night being woken up from these rats running across you is infuriating for the most part. Also these rats have been eating all our food supply leaving many to starve in the trenches.
The day has come. The day I've feared but tried so hard not to. Two men grab me by the arms and lead outside to the blinding sunlight, reluctantly. My tattered shoes scrape along the rocky sand of the camp, everyones watching me now. They all know what's happening and feel sorry for me, except for a smug figure in the distance, obviously Sergeant Hanley. My eyes dart helplessly around the camp, I see the firing squad and a lump swells in my throat. Then I see Tommo, and remember my promise to him.
Cherish The heavy clomp walking sound that came from deep inside of the forest. He wishes he had never heard it. He wishes he could just pretend nothing is happening. It stops not too far from him, but all he can hear is his heartbeat thumping so hard within his chest.
Life in the camp is epitomised by one big question mark. Uncertainty is the order of the day. I don’t know how long I’ve been here or why I’m here. I’m lost in desolation and blended into the sea of blue and white. Papa tells me everything will be fine one day but he has lost the spark in his eyes and is now filled with despair. Today we continue to work on building huts, I can make an escape and meet up with Bruno like I usually did. A soldier gives me a wheelbarrow and I barely manage to hold it upright. I run towards the pile of rubble that hides me from the soldiers, the place where I meet Bruno. But before I could escape a blonde soldier yells at me. “Hey you! Come here. Faster you rat!” My heart pumps loudly, ringing in my ears. I run towards the soldier and he raised his hand, I immediately cower and waited for him to deliver the fatal blow. Instead he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the entrance gates. “We need someone with tiny fingers, you’ll be going somewhere where you are not allowed to talk. Is that clear?” The soldier ordered, I didn’t want to think what they wanted with my small bony hands.
I read Ann’s letter several times and each time I found myself lingering on different words as I daydreamed of us shopping at the farmer’s market on Piazza Carlo Marx, buying fresh bread at the bakery in Cerqueto and dining at Oasi. Ultimately, what seemed like the longest summer in history, it was time for our departure to Italy. Our friends and my colleagues were thrilled for us and we had a growing waiting list of guests who were eager to visit once we were settled in our home.
Prologue Let’s skip all of that icebreaker jazz and get right into business. I’m Ursula, otherwise known as the wicked sea witch of Atlantica. I used to be important and special, but after I was banished to the murky depths of the icy cold ocean caves, all of that changed. A century came and gone (please note that merpeople live much longer than you wimpy humans do), and I was still sulking in my own loneliness and burning loath for King Triton. After time, my gift of supreme gorgeousness betrayed me, and in its replace, I became scrimpy and hideous- all because of King Triton’s merciless heart.
Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm went. Oh no!