There I found her my beloved Katie walking the evening sidewalk. I appeared holding a single red rose for her our eyes met as a smile appeared on her face as she ran to me her arms wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace, her perfume filled my mind as she held me. When she released me from her embrace, I offered her my arm and asked "shall we walk my love?" She smiled as she took the single, red rose. As we made our way through the crowded evening street we talked as I struggled with the thought of losing her to the savage hands of mortal time. I remember what Mistress told me when I was reborn that a vampire and mortal could never be together for it is forbidden. “I want her, I need her, my soulless body craves her. The embrace, the
Lily is thinking “how much older fourteen had made [her]. In the space of a few hours [she’d] become forty years old.” She makes this connection after she realizes that maybe her mother's death could have not been her fault and that it could have been T. Ray’s and he was punishing her for it. This caused Lily to pack “...5 pairs of shorts, tops, ... shampoo, toothpaste...” $38 and a map (41-42). By doing this, it made her feel like she had aged, feeling like a 40 year old.
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
Her mother had died after being hit by a reckless driver. Alice, a fifteen-year old, African-American girl, was now without her natural and most influential guide on how to cope with the powerful transition from girl to lady.
Catherine, Catherine is who I am. I am a young American-Italian girl, that loves making people happy. Yet I get hurt easily, and can’t make decisions on my own. I lived with ma aunt (Beatrice) and ma uncle (Eddie). Sadly, Eddie died because he snitched to the immigration bureau on ma husband Rodolpho, but you will find out later exactly how he died. For now, all ya need to know it dat it wasn’t a smooth year.
“A Rose for Emily,” a short story by William Faulkner published in 1930, tells the story of a women, Emily Grierson, who has been isolated her whole life. Starting at a young age, Emily’s father would shun any man who would try and come into Emily’s life, thus, causing her to be without anyone with whom to talk, without anyone to love, without anyone to keep her sane. This solitude leads Emily to do the unthinkable; Emily murders Homer Barron.
The quote I chose from A Rose for Emily was "Her skeleton was small and spare; perhaps that was why what would have been merely plumpness in another was obesity in her" (Faulkner page 629). In this quote the narrator is speaking, my thoughts the whole time while reading is that the narrator is a mix of towns peoples thoughts through out the events of this story. The first time I read this passage I completely looked over this sentence. The second time I read this it really stood out to me. It's such a small quote and could be completely looked over.
Celie believes she has no power or say against her father and the choices he makes for her. Alfonso begins to talk about choosing a husband for Celie because he has grown tired of her and is ready to get rid of her. Alfonso also gets bored with his wife, and starts to gravitate toward his younger daughter Nettie again. Celie offers herself to Alfonso in an attempt to save her sister. Alfonso accepts her offers and has sex with her instead of Nettie, while his new wife is sick. Alfonso uses Celie for sex tries and in an attempt to turn the other girls against her he badmouths her and says that she’s a bad influence. He says Celie "ain 't fresh" (isn 't a virgin) and that she is “spoiled” Alfonso sees women as objects and once they have been
Stereo hearts: you never know we come and go like on the interstate. A red, red rose: the sands o'life shall run. Stereo hearts: do you know my heart’s a stereo the only plays for you. A red, red rose: till the seas gang dry my dear and the rocks melt wi’the sun: I will luve thee still my dear. Stereo hearts: The chorus rhymes every line and the rapping part rhymes every second line.
Yesterday I woke up at 2pm, because my neighbors had a baby and he kept crying all night. I couldn't sleep until he stopped crying and fell asleep, but after I finally fell asleep he started crying again. I don’t want to be mad at him or anything. He is just a baby. But I couldn’t get any sleep because of him.
A new melody started up and like the wave at a baseball game the “ooohhs” and “aaahhs” from the crowd started on one side and ended on the other. From around the corner I could see the very top of a balding head. After they came around the corner of the crowd, I could see the wonderful sight of my stunning new bride accompanied by her father, a tall rugged man who is slightly balding. They walked towards me one step at a time slowly, but surely. It felt like time had slowed to a crawl as I waited for her to reach me.
'A Red, Red Rose', was first published in 1794 in A Selection of Scots Songs, edited by Peter Urbani. Written in ballad stanzas, the verse - read today as a poem – pieces together conventional ideas and images of love in a way that transcends the "low" or non-literary sources from which the poem is drawn. In it, the speaker compares his love first with a blooming rose in spring and then with a melody "sweetly play'd in tune." If these similes seem the typical fodder for love-song lyricists, the second and third stanzas introduce the subtler and more complex implications of time. In trying to quantify his feelings - and in searching for the perfect metaphor to describe the "eternal" nature of his love - the speaker inevitably comes up against love's greatest limitation, "the sands o' life." This image of the hour-glass forces the reader to reassess of the poem's first and loveliest image: A "red, red rose" is itself an object of an hour, "newly sprung" only "in June" and afterward subject to the decay of time. This treatment of time and beauty predicts the work of the later Romantic poets, who took Burns's work as an important influence.
The grass was soft and green, reserved for those who wanted to lie down or sit. A sweet aroma of flowers overflowed near by like s shinning light, but was hidden by the untrimmed bushes and wildly growing trees. Up above me was the beautiful, high noon blue sky spotted with fluffy, white clouds and airplanes flying by. I emerged into the parking lot and stopped happily as a squirrel under a tree. Hesitating to proceed anywhere further I took a few minutes to treasure the moment of silence and peace. As my girlfriend and I got out of the car to get ready for the picnic, she happened to be distracted by the water; a rhythmic ongoing resemblance of rhythm in her heart. The water was clam and beautiful in every aspect. To me she was like a wave, never stooping to catch attention or go unnoticed. Before doing anything else, we began setting up the picnic. By the time we ware done, her temptation was unbearable and was finally unable to overcome it, consequently she eagerly ran towards the water pulling me right behind her. Each step was like an imprint in my heart, a fossil that would always remain the same and special inside me forever.
It was a dreadful afternoon, big droplets of rain fell directly on my face and clothes. I tasted the droplets that mixed with my tears, the tears I cried after the incident. The pain in my foot was excruciating. It caused me to make a big decision of whether I should visit you or not. I decided I would. I limped towards my bright, blue car where my bony, body collapsed onto the seat. I started the engine up but at the same time being cautious of my bleeding foot. I then drove to the destination where I was bound to meet you. I was bound to meet you after three years of counselling from my last appearance with you. I guess all I can remember is the scarring....
Robert Burns has created many magnificent poems but the most charming, is “Oh, my love is like a red, red rose”. This poem is the essence of all his artistic creativity. He has a particular merit because relying on folklore and the dialect of his country; he created a modern art that does not only belong to the culture of his country but all over the world culture. With his genius, Burns fascinates the reader by transforming Scottish folk songs into marvelous poems. With sweet music in his heart, the poet-speaker writes about a young woman who he loved beyond measures. On the background of amazing music, Robert Burns, plants a red, red rose on the heart of the reader. It looks like this lyric is written by a shaking pen that is not under Burn’s command but under a magic power of an emotional vibration, which sources automatically from an exquisite sense of spirituality. Without such vibration, Burns could not choose any word to create his immortal lyric. The secrets of this fascinating lyric can be detected in the light of a literary analysis of four stanzas, and the literary interpretation of every gleaning word.
“O my luv’s like a red, red rose that’s newly sprung in June” (Lines 1-2). These are the first lines of Robert Burn’s emotional and eloquent poem where he expresses his love for a woman. These first lines of this poem convey a sense of the emotions such as: Euphoria, excitement, and passion. These are a few of the emotions that a man in love expressed in his work, which also reflects in the overall theme of the poem. Another factor that plays an interesting role is how the poem gives of a sense of expectancy; it is as if the author was excited for what the future held. This is entirely contrary to the idea Burn’s critics held, which stated, the poem was only a farewell to someone the poet cared about, and was on his deathbed. This is a notion that seems almost silly to suggest when one analyzes the poem; they would see that it is just a love poem that is comparable to an eloquent love letter. The work absolutely brims with the author’s passion and excitement at what the future held with him and this woman he was deeply attracted too. Burn’s poem is simply an expression of his emotions that he had towards a woman, by use of overblown metaphors and an elegant writing style.