The Secret Agent Monologue

Rainsford can feel his arms getting weaker every stroke he takes,every time he moves his arm it feels like 100 more bounds are added to it. The only thing that keeps him going is the sight of Zaroff’s window. He plans to swim to zaroff’s window and hide there until he returns and rainsford will fight zaroff to end this horrible nightmare.he’s not to far from the land that is above the window. As he swims further he suddenly stumps his toe on what feels like land! He finally can touch the ground with his feet.rainsford reaches land and with a great big breath he collapses onto the dry grainy sand.because he is overcome with exhaustion he falls into a deep and soundless slumber.

I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything.

In philosophy, the issue of personal identity concerns the conditions under which a person at one time is the same person at another time. An analysis of personal identity

Devin is a small kid in a big world, ever since his family made him move to Columbus he has hated them ever since. Devin just got his new spy glasses he just ordered. His parents just invited him out, but he declines and says he doesn’t really want to go because he wants to try them out. Devin has started to realize that his parents are acting weird around him whenever he asks where they go to work and just keep vanishing randomly. One day Devin decides to follow his parents to work so he jumps in the trunk of their car that they take to work, as Devin is in the trunk he notices there no longer on the road and that there’s a huge facility. As he approaches he starts to notice all these signs “Restricted area”. Devin waits for his parents to

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I say as I run the blade ‘down the road’ on my wrist. I cried softly, hoping no one can hear me. I don’t want to be in this world anymore. How can I live in the world when everyone hates me? My parents abused me all the time before they died. I guess it’s now taking an effect on me. My friends all stabbed my back a thousand times. I Wish I didn’t tell them my secrets. They just went and told everyone else and now I’m known as the town slut. Even my boyfriend hates me. Or should I say ex-boyfriend. He proved it today. (Flashback) I was walking to class. I saw two people kissing next to the lockers and thought “I wish my boyfriend and I were like that.” As I got closer, it was my boyfriend with another girl. How could he? He said he loved me. We all lie at one point in our lives. Am I right? He

My name is Mayella Ewell. I belong to the lowest of the low amongst the whites in Maycomb. I grew up in a poor family and never received any proper education. The only I have is probably being white. My dad and I want to have a better life, but dad doesn’t want to put any effort into doing so. My mom died when I was young and I became a surrogate wife for my dad. I wish I could have gone to school, but I have to take care of my children. My dad loves to go out and drink for the whole day. When he comes home, he often drunk and this is when he would rape me.

Hey! Nice to meet you! I am Wendy, a water molecule! Oh! Sorry for the yelling. It is just that I am a very excitable person. I am at the top of the atmosphere for the first time! I was left here by a spaceship. I guess they just forgot….. or else they don’t like water molecules! I never thought of that before, but who cares? I’m still here.

Serbin makes an appealing argument in chapter two of his book, Secret Dialogues: Church-State Relations, Torture, and Social Justice in Authoritarian Brazil as he creates a sense of uncertainty and turmoil brought upon Brazil by the military and the Church. In chapter two, he presents and explains the dilemma of change to institutional beliefs for both of these entities. Although historically, the military and the Church had worked closely together, their need for adaptation to change in formulating a successful relationship in shaping Brazilian society failed to establish. The misunderstanding and the lack of acceptance of one another's ideology by both institutions hindered what possibly could have been a significant relationship in reforming Brazil and its people.

The next day Lennie and I enter a bunkhouse room with whitewashed walls and unpainted floor. There were about eight bunks, some have blankets some don’t, over each bunk there were these apple box that were made to put in our own personal belongings. There was also little regular daily life’s supplies in the room, including razors, magazines, medicines and all kind of stuff loaded in the shelve, there were even a big table for playing cards. As the old man address Lennie and I into this new work place, he give us instruction to where we will be resting tonight, he told us that the boss was expecting us last night and will be furious if find us there this morning, I walk over the bed and suddenly I see a yellow can on the ground, now I wonder what kind of disgusting bed is he giving us?

Jimmy was young 13-year-old boy in the eighth grade. At school one day he heard about something that had happened forty years before and he intended to ask his father when he got home. That afternoon he walked into the kitchen, gave his mother a hug, grabbed a cookie and walked into the living room where Dad sat next to the window with the cat on his lap, watching the snow fall, as he recovered from a cold.

So the FCC won't let me be or let me be me so let me see

Throughout my life, I have lived as two people, Fatou and Jojo. A cumbersome consequence of having two first names coupled with making the detrimental decision of giving the human populous a choice as to which one to call me. Over time, these two parts of myself have begun to manifest into two completely different personas, each name with its own memories, experiences, and beliefs. As these two personalities evolve and become more defined, I have to ask myself. Who am I?

February 15, 1894, was the most interesting afternoon in the otherwise dreary history of Greenwich Observatory. Earlier in the day, Martial Bourdin, a skinny anarchist, traveled by train from Westminster to Greenwich, concealing a small bomb. As he ominously ambled through Greenwich Park, towards the Observatory, something happened - no one knows exactly what - and he blew most of himself to shreds. The British, who loved to quantify in the late nineteenth century, noted that the explosion spread bits of flesh over a distance of sixty yards. Martial Bourdin remained alive for another half hour, but gave no hint as to the reason for his choice of such a bizarre

The question is, which of these identities will I present, which of them will I develop and how do I realize other persons´ identities? In the novel “The English patient” both of the above mentioned identities can be discovered within all the expressingly dynamic characters. If we take Hana as a first example we might simply say that she is a canadian nurse aiding injured soldiers during the second world war. This statement can be referred to as social identity – it is the way Hana behaves within society. Her personal identity, however, is much more subtile and not that easy, neither to discover, nor to understand. The same, of course, applies to the other characters, especially to the English patient, whose rediscovery of identity is the focus of this novel and mainly dealt with. His story of identical background is told in flashbacks, as he

    “Molly, dinner time!” my mother yells in a sing-songy voice from the first floor. My father calls the waitress over, “Excuse me, Molly” he states, trying to get her attention. The doorbell rings, and I answer it, “Hi, I’m Molly” says the cheerful little girl scout standing at my doorstep. Names are universal identifers; they shed no light about one’s personality. They are labels, they fail to display our identity because identity is a unique part of what makes you, you.