The Flame And Its Beauty

The princess began to weep, for her lover was to die or to marry a woman she despised. She flew up and out of her seat, and she ran as fast as her feet could take her; she could not bear to see her lover’s fate. She knew the fair maiden was behind the door he was to open, and she wanted so badly to be standing in her place. She must find a way to meet him as he opened the door.

The author of A World Lit Only by Fire is William Manchester. This book was written in three chapters. In the first chapter he starts to talk about the dark ages between A. D. 400 and A.D. 1000. He begins to write about this time period were there are no survivors left to be offended. This author attempted to write this book to defend an unpopular view among historians that the medieval world was backward in the terms of culture, religion, and technology. This world was destroyed by the blossoming of confidence in reason and the progress of art, literacy, astronomy, geography, and theology. In the first chapter the book is speaking about Manchester’s conception of the medieval mindset.

The mouldy, rotting, brown house stood in front of Emily, only fear keeping her feet planted to the ground. Moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house. The grass was damp from the evening fog and every time she took a step the mud squelched. The bottom step squeaked as she applied pressure with her foot, she let out a sigh of relief as the old structure hadn’t swallowed her up. The door, slightly off colour from the rest of the house, loomed over her like a giant as he reached for the brass door handle. A shiver ran through her body like an electric current, the musty smell of a house that had been long abandoned filled Emily’s nose. It was dim and uninviting. The furniture dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if she was to touch it. Mould ate away at

The night air was heavy with silence. Clouds drifted across a calm sky, and a full moon shone in the distance. In a small hut on the outskirts of the valley, an old man lay in bed, awake in the peaceful slumber of the village. His breaths came in rattling gasps, his forehead burned, and his joints felt stiff with pain. He shifted on the blankets, his withered hands clenched in fists as he tried to suppress the wave of bitter memories coming to him. His life had been nothing more than work, loss, tragedy. He remembered all of his hope, his ambition, in his youth, and he smiled bitterly. No one would remember him as the man that he had once hoped he would become. Now, as his breathing became heavier and he felt himself fading on the brink of

28. When was the use of a diamond as an engagement ring introduced, and where?

A World Lit Only By Fire is William Manchester 's attempt to write a book of popular history defending the increasingly unpopular view among historians that the medieval world was culturally, religiously, and technologically backward. This world was destroyed by the blossoming of confidence in reason and the progress of art, literacy, astronomy, geography, and theology. The book is divided into three chapters. The first chapter introduces Manchester 's conception of the medieval mindset. The second chapter includes a lengthy discussion about how this mindset was continuously challenged by a number of individuals and movements. Finally, the last chapter explores in detail the adventure of Ferdinand Magellan whom Manchester believes shattered the medieval mind and heralded the coming of modernity.

The boy lay there next to his father keeping each other warm from the chilling atmosphere where they set camp. The air was so moist it turned the dirt into damp mud and the boy could feel his sleeping bag submerge into it. The intimidating glare of an owl examining him sent a tingle up his spine. The sounds of bugs chiming filled the ambience, killing the silence giving him a sense of security. He looked up at the twilight sky illuminated by the blinding shimmer of the full moon gleaming through the forest trees over him. Surrounding it was an array of glimmering stars prompting the sky alive. As his body grew accustomed to the environment, each natural attribute gave him comfort and allowed him to slowly fall into a deep sleep.

A World Lit Only by Fire by William Manchester Outline The Medieval Mind I. The Dark Ages A. The Years A.D. 400 to A.D. 1000 1. Referred to as the Dark Ages because knowledge and literacy vanished during this era.

As I was reading the novel FireFight, Kate wild (the person who wrote the book) made me feel as if I had lived in a Phoenix HQ for a very long time. This is a good book towards teenagers because it explores the world of imagination and without that source it would be boring and lack character. This book is about Freedom Smith (the main character of the story) who was just a daredevil gypsy boy with extraordinary strength and agility. Now he works for Phoenix, a special police operation. A sinister email has been going around, a Screamer. Kids have been disappearing after seeing it, including his friend Java. Freedom must go undercover to infiltrate the source. This is an action-packed, astonishing, triumphant, exhilarating, and evocative and captivating book.

“But a deeper terror immediately gripped me: I couldn’t remember where I was. A warm bed, darkness, the sound of traffic. What country is this? What is this house, and who am I with. I reached out a hand; there was no one else in the bed. Was I alone because I had no partner, or because my partner was far away? I floated in the dark, anonymous to myself, lost in the sensation that the world existed but I was no longer a part of it” (130).

Crumpled newspapers scattered the table like the bones of dead bodies after war. Windows wiped down of memories huddled between oak frames, facing a street with cosy cottages. Single embroidered carpets hugged the floor, covering the marble tiles in delicate silk. A whisper of wind floated in through cracks of the panes of glass, whispering it's songs of misery throughout the house. I breathed in gulps of air, allowing the icy coolness to fill my lungs, and the morning frost creep out. My glistening blue eyes presented purple bags, and my sleek hair was a tangled cobweb. My feet dragged along the stone floor like the walking of the undead. I’d been up all night, searching and seeking for answers.

I began to panic, as more and more of the black dots climbed into me, wriggling up my arms like worms in the rain, hurting me more and more. I dug my nails into my body, trying to stratch them out, to no avail. I couldn’t take the pain, the persistent feeling of being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles, pricking harder and harder each time, the uttermost betrayal from my only friends, the only ones who ever knew me. The fishbowl began to crack, like icy roads in the Monday morning rush. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and began to scoop out the bugs, slowly at first, but then as more began to form, I picked up the pace. Every time I managed to flick one body to the tiled floor, another would begin to crawl up from my toes, coating me in a layer of darkness. My body was numb as lines of ruby appeared on my arms, but my heart raced uncontrollably. Trickles of water slithered down the glass. Slowly, the dots began to fade, almost reducing into mist and floating away, how the trees return to stillness after a storm, as a sea of garnet rushed over me. But this state of relief did not last long- a dark shadow formed in the doorway, blocking all light entering the room. It looked like a shadow; as dark as hell, it spoke words of sin and hate, with a voice low enough to shatter glass. I staggered backwards, and held myself up using the counter behind me. It launched forward, grabbing towards my arms, wrapping around me, choking me in smoke. A waterfall gushed over my face, drowning me. I couldn’t

One day, I was walking home after a hard day studying for the math exam. The sun had gone to sleep and the moon took his place as the darkness surrounded me. The night, it surrounded everything, ate anything stay in its way, it would never hold back and demolish everything. It was frosty as I was locked in a fridge. The street was quiet and derelict, the way that the glow the streetlight glow was eerie,

I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be

At night, beyond the public eye, the rooftop comforts me, provides me a my safe haven. I hear the wind whispering my name to escape: but I do not listen. Being in my own world ushers a feeling of fright, yet also comes as a relief. With no one there to judge me; I sit alone, with the company of my inner demons.. I close my eyes, my demons have assailed me all day, midnight is their time. The void of judgment has remained. It’s dark, but at the end you see a flash of light. So, I walk in the obesity of my mind where the darkness has taken over. The sense of being paralyzed comes to my mind, my fears are woken up and the sense of neglect is off. I smell fear all around. I do not smell the smoke from the burning wood I left. The smell of fear and sweat are much more dominant,I feel my hands are getting sweaty, my body frozen, paralyzed. My heart beats faster than ever before. My Demons have become vigorous. An explosion of fear, rage, sadness and anxiety overwhelms me, but I cannot wake up. Powerless, my demons pull me into the darkest depths of my mind where I try to hold on for dear mercy.