Friendship is very important for everyone‚ especially me. During my studying from elementary school to university‚ I have lots of friends. Among those‚ there are a few friends who are my best friends. Now I would like to describe one of my best friends whose name is Petou. The first reason I consider him as my best friend is that he has a very warm personality. He is so friendly when he meets me everywhere. For example‚ he always smiles politely on me that makes me absolutely delighted when
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Critical Literary Analysis The novel that I read is called "Sula" written by Toni Morrison. This novel is about the lives of two women named Sula Peace‚ and Nel Wright. They became friends while living in the black community called "The Bottom" outside of Medallion‚ Ohio. They go through many obstacles together throughout the novel. We get to see them grow from young girls‚ to adults. Sula is told in the third person (omniscient). Therefore‚ the narrator is able to let
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raised in a family‚ which at times‚ could be very judgmental of people. My family lived in an upper-class neighborhood where there was no poverty or homelessness. My parents made sure my brother and I had all the best clothes‚ the newest cell phones and laptops‚ they spent a lot of money sending us to the best schools on the east coast‚ our education was very important to them. We both had tutors for different subjects‚ and my parents required us to take lessons three times a week‚ on the instrument
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responsible for gathering his father’s assets together‚ which requires him to make an out of town trip. In order to accomplish this Victor needs help. This help comes from the town outcast‚ Thomas Builds-the Fire. Victor and Thomas were childhood best friends but as they grew older‚ Victor turned his back on the one that always looked out for him. A trip to gather his father’s remains turns into a journey of reviewing his life and choices. Shortly after losing his job with the Bureau of Indian Affairs
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When she confronts her parents about it they tell her that after the car accident that caused her coma‚ the only way they could have saved her life was to use a biogel that allows her to be human-like. They also told her that her two other best friends that were involved in the car accident were just like her and that they scanned her brain and put it into a computer. As the story progresses Jenna starts to feel insecure and conflicted about whether she should tell Ethan about the truth or not
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had just gotten home from my best friend Emily’s house the sun was shining so bright I could barely ride my bike home. I pulled up to my white house on Holiday Rd. I saw that my Mom had just planted new flowers in our yard it looked so colorful like a pack of skittles. It was finally spring. Summer was approaching so quickly. I walked into my house to find my parents sitting at the dining room table and my sister no where to be found‚ I knew something was up. Naturally my parents sat me down and told
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Best Friends Forever By Kymmberly Morton When I was a young girl my mother would read to me every night before I went to sleep. She would read all types of books from fairy tales to nursery rhymes‚ fiction and non-fiction‚ I loved them all. I wouldn’t fall asleep until she would read the entire book‚ or at least I would try‚ but her voice was so soothing that I couldn’t help it but to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep. I would sometimes fine myself trying to read along with her but
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My Best friend. My best friend is a very special lady I grew up with‚ my sister Roberta. My sister Robert is two years younger than me‚ but everyone always assumes she is older than me. She always laughs at me when I tease her by saying it must be because I look younger than her. We have been there for each other through all the important milestones in our lives; from our wild and fun childhoods‚ to our first day of school‚ to the births of our first born children. My sister Roberta loves working
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As an only child who lived a good distance away from her best friends‚ I spent many of my early years creating playmates for myself. However‚ the Christmas after I turned five‚ my grandmother brought me Cricket. Cricket wasn’t a puppy‚ or a goldfish‚ or anything alive. She was simply a doll. Dolls like Cricket aren’t made anymore. She was nearly as tall as I (the box she came in was even bigger)‚ with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her hair was neatly pulled up with pink yarn bows into pigtails of what
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‘one of the boys.’ My parents‚ convinced I was a male‚ bought an entire collection of baby blue clothes and boy attire before the day I was born. I disappointed them with the moment of my delivery. In kindergarten‚ I lacked a curiosity in playing in the petite blue club house with the dismembered babies and entirely naked‚ shaved‚ Barbie dolls. I can still recall the eyes of aversion and spits of gossip by girls sitting less than 5 feet away from me during the school day. My name was a reoccurring
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