Graduation

     "It went so quickly. I felt like I'd hit the fast forward button. were we supposed to march quite that fast? and then Eric was speed talking in his nervousness, the words and phrases running together so they didn't make sense anymore. Principal Greene started calling names, one after the other without a long enough pause between; the front row in the gymnasium was rushing to catch up. Poor Ms. Cope was all thumbs as she tried to give the principal the right diploma to hand to the right student.
     I heard Mr. Greene call my name and I rose from my chair, waiting for the line in front of me to move. I was conscious of cherring in the back of the gym, and I looked around to see Jacob pulling Charlie to his feet, both of them hooting in encouragement. I could just make out the top of Billy' headbeside Jacob's elbow. I managed to throw them an approximation of a smile.
     Mr. Greene finished with the list of names, and then continued to hand out diplomas with a sheepish grin as we filed past.
     "Congratulations, Miss Stanley," he mumbled as Jess took hers."
     "Congratulations, Miss Swan," he mumbled to me, pressing the diploma into my good hand.
     "Thanks," I murmured.
     And that was it.



I felt this passage was appropriate, because this is my last week of high school, and also my last dialectical journal entry. It feels really weird, because I thought I would be glad high school is almost over, but actually, I'm really going miss it. Bella describes her graduating experience as if she could care less, as if the whole ceremony is awkward and pointless. I understand her apathy, because she had fellow friends experiencing graduation with her. I will be alone. It's weird for me, but that's how it is. I wish I could've graduated with the high school, because I'd be surrounded by people, instead of surrounded by eyes. Either way, I"m excited and impatient.

Jacob and his powers

"He inhaled deeply, and then let out a gutsy sigh.
  "Fine."
He unwound the towel and, when I reached out to take the cloth, he laid his hand in mine.
  It took me a few seconds. I even flipped his hand over, though I was sure he'd cut his palm. I turned his hand back up, finally realizing that the angry pink, puckered line was all that was left of his wound."



How cool would it be to accidently get hurt, just to see that would heal faster than you got it?? I think it would be great, because it would also be a life saver. Sure, bigger wounds would take longer to heal, but they'd heal. Too bad real life different, but also thank goodness.

Enemy at the Gates

     She towered into the sky on balanced wings, 

cleaving a giant rainbow, flying beneath the clouds. 

And Turnus knew her and raised both hands to the stars,

calling the goddess, trailing her flight with cries:

"Iris, pride of the sky! Who has sped you here to me, 

swooping down from the clouds to reach the earth?

Why this sudden radiance lighting the heavens?

I can see the clouds parting, the stars riding

the arching skies. I follow a sign so clear,

whoever you are who calls me into action."

I really like this part of the passage, because it's very descriptive. It creates a very interesting and bold picture, because of the words like, "towered," "swopping," "radiance," and "action." It creates the image if n amazing, stunning person coming to help someone, and to me, this is very unique and eye catching.

Reunion

"I was tired enough to sleep, but I fought against the weariness. I wasn't going to miss a second of the time I had with him. Now and then, as he talked with Alice, he would lean down suddenly and kiss me-his glass-smooth lips brushing against my hair, my forehead, the tip of my nose. Each time it was like an electric shock to my long dormant heart. The sound of its beating seemed to fill the entire room.
It was heaven-right smack in the middle of hell."


There are times when I feel like this, but not necessary in the same context. I feel the same sometimes at an event, with a friend, etc. I think the author did a good job describing the feelings Bella goes through, and how it makes her feel, because Bella's feelings are essentially the author's.

Party

     "We were pulling up to the house now. Bright light shined from every window on the first two floors. A long line of glowing Japanese lanterns hung from the porch eaves, reflecting a soft radiance on the huge cedars that surrounded the house. Big bowls of flowers-pink roses-lined the wide stairs up to the front doors.
     They were all waiting in the huge white living room; when I walked through the door, they greeted me with a loud of chorus of 'Happy birthday Bella!" while I blushed and looked down. Alice, I assumed, had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table with a white cloth draped over it next to Edward's piano, holding a pink birthday cake, more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents."


The first thing I have to say about this, is that that set up would have been amazing! Almost any girl's wish for any occasion, is to walk into a beautiful surrounding of flowers and and candles, well, at least it's mine. Bella is always complaining about the amazing things Alice can do, like decorating, when really, it's super cool, and sweet.

Interogation

"I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote-bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant-the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizon, barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me-to justify a beauty that didn't depend on the sparse, spiny vegetation that often looked half dead, a beauty that had more to do with the exposed shape of the land, with the shallow bowls of valleys between the craggy hills, and the way they held on to the sun."



Description of this place, tells the reader that the describer, greatly misses somewhere, because she gives so much detail. She tells of the most memorable familiarities she can, because she's not only trying to picture them, but also because she doesn't want to lose those memories. Being in a new place, often heightens the senses to old and loved things, one is deprived of. Here, Bella, is deprived of the sun, and her childhood memories of her Phoenix home, of which she dearly loves and misses.

Anger

     "At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose-he was much taller than I'd thought-his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.
     "I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my dear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency."


I can relate to Bella when she talks about her anger triggering  her tears, because I have the same problem. When I get in a scrap with my mom or sister, I usually stalk off up to my room, and cry. It IS embarrassing, especially if one of my family members sees or knows that I'm upstairs bawling, but I don't ever directly tell them, "Hey, I was bawling." I think it is also humorous, because it makes one look like a spoiled brat, even though it really is inevitable.

The Aeneid

"Then Juno in all her power, filled with pity
for Dido's agonizing death, her labor long and hard,
sped Iris down from Olympus to release her spirit
wrestling now in a deathlock with her limbs.
Since she was dying a death not fated or deserved,
no, tormented, before her day, in a blaze of passion--
Proserpina had yet to pluck a golden lock from her head
and commit her life to the Styx and the dark world below.
So Iris, glistening dew, comes skimming down from the sky
on gilded wings, trailing showers of iridescence shimmering
into the sun, and hovering over Dido's head declares:
"So commanded, I take this lock as a sacred gift
to the God of Death, and I release you from your body."

With that, she cut the lock with her hand and all at once
the warmth slipped away, the life dissolved in the winds."


The end of Book four, has a poetic device that is interesting, when deciphered. "Labor long," is a use of alliteration, and could mean a number of possibilities. It could mean that Dido, suffered trying to stay alive, or that she suffered in trying to kill herself. One is never really willing to purposefully kill oneself, so, her labor in deciding to go through with it, must have been long, difficult, and ominous.

Emily Dickinson

How countlessly they congregate O'er our tumultuous snow, Which flows in shapes as tall as trees When wintry winds do blow!-- As if with keenness for our fate, Our faltering few steps on To white rest, and a place of rest Invisible at dawn,-- And yet with neither love nor hate, Those stars like some snow-white Minerva's snow-white marble eyes Without the gift of sight.






Robert Frosts', Stars, is a poem that contains a small amount of poetic devices. "Tall as trees, wintry winds, for our fate, and faltering few," are alliteration. My favorite is "faltering few," because it seems to me to be sarcastic. Many people falter, or mess up in life, which means that there are few who do not, not falter. "Wintry winds," is a good use of alliteration, because it could mean a person, a comment, or the actual thing itself. I find alliteration fun to use, because riddles are entailed.

The Ides of March

     "It is with regret that I must say that I shall not be able to be among your guests on the fifteenth. It has more and more become my practice to devote to study the few hours remaining to me at the close of the day.
     I shall indeed, during your absence, seek to be useful to Calpurnia Piso in every way that I can. I think it well, however, that you consign her to the particular attention of others than myself, more active in the social life and less preoccupied by public business.



In this letter to Caesar, Brutus seems a bit jumpy in how he words things. I believe he feels great remorse for not being present at Caesar's future murder, but obviously not enough if he's making excuses as to why he won't be there. I believe Brutus loves Caesar as a friend, but doesn't have too much regret for letting things go the way they are going. Brutus, is in my opinion, a coward, and a terrible comrade.

The End

     It will be as if I never existed, he'd promised me.
     I felt the smooth wooden floor beneath my knees, and then the palms of my hands, and then it was pressed against the skin of my cheek. I hoped that I was fainting, but, to my disappointment, I didn't lose consciousness. The waves of pain that had only lapped at me before now reared high up and washed over my head, puling me under.
     I did not resurface.


     I like how in this passage, the author uses tone to describe the character's feelings. The author used the example of falling, and drowning, which add a dramatic effect, and a sad one. The author is revealing sadness, hopelessness, abandonment, and denial, which give the reader the same feelings. The tome is very depressing, and far from enlightening. I think it a good passage to exemplify tone in writing.

The Meadow

     "Don't move," the voice whispered. I tried to do what he instructed. It was hard; the instinct to take flight was nearly uncontrollable.
     "Really?" Laurent seemed interested. "Is that why they left?"
     "No," I answered honestly. "Jasper is more careful at home."
     "Yes," Laurent agreed. "I am too."
     The step forward was quite deliberate.
     "Did Victoria ever find you?" I asked, breathless, desperate to distract him. It was the first question that popped into my head, and I regretted it as soon as the words were spoken. Victoria-who had hunted me with James, and then disappeared-was not someone I wanted to think of at this particular moment.
     But the question did not stop him.
     "Yes," he said, hesitating on that step. "I actually came here as a favor to her." He made a face. "She won't be happy about this."


When reading this part of the book, I got goose bumps, because the reader can see what's coming next, and it's not peaceful. I dove into this chapter, anticipating multiple adrenaline racing parts. This section is also somewhat intersting, becasue Bella hears a voice, telling her to stay put. Bella was frozen, scared and hurt. I also felt her feelings, because anyone would agree that coming close to a horrific death, is prettty scary. All I can say is I'd hate to ever be in Bella's shoes, definitely.

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain. 







I liked this poem, because it makes the author unique. Many people despise the rain, especially coastal people. I do, but every now and then I don't. Rain has a peaceful sense to it, but when it's not wanted, it can be a nuisance. Rain can do all the things mentioned in the poem, and a little more. 

There is Another Sky

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!




Emily Dickinson was known as a recluse, because she was always writing poems inside her house, never corresponding with people on the outside. This poem, as I have interpreted it, seems to be coming from Emily's view on wanting to be anywhere but where she is. She seems to be wanting to be able to go away to a magnificent garden, where there are no worries. This magnificent garden, or land, has never been touched by anything bad, or damaging. That place sounded like am imaginative place, Emily wanted to be.