om,” I inquired, “what did you say to Wilson that afternoon?” He stared at me without a word, and I knew I had guessed right about those missing hours. I started to turn away, but he took a step after me and grabbed my arm. “I told him the truth,” he said. “He came to the door while we were getting ready to leave, and when I sent down word that we weren’t in he tried to force his way upstairs. He was crazy enough to kill me if I hadn’t told him who owned the car. His hand was on a revolver in his pocket every minute he was in the house—” He broke off defiantly. “What if I did tell him? That fellow had it coming to him. He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy’s, but he was a tough one. He ran over Myrtle like you’d run over a dog and never even stopped his car.”

After the armistice he tried frantically to get home, but some complication or misunderstanding sent him to Oxford instead. He was worried now—there was a quality of nervous despair in Daisy’s letters. She didn’t see why he couldn’t come. She was feeling the pressure of the world outside, and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all.

She didn’t like it,” he insisted. “She didn’t have a good time.” He was silent, and I guessed at his unutterable depression. “I feel far away from her,” he said. “It’s hard to make her understand.” “You mean about the dance?” “The dance?” He dismissed all the dances he had given with a snap of his fingers. “Old sport, the dance is unimportant.” He wanted nothing less of Daisy than that she should go to Tom and say: “I never loved you.” After she had obliterated four years with that sentence they could decide upon the more practical measures to be taken. One of them was that, after she was free, they were to go back to Louisville and be married from her house—just as if it were five years ago. “And she doesn’t understand,” he said. “She used to be able to understand. We’d sit for hours—” He broke off and began to walk up and down a desolate path of fruit rinds and discarded favours and crushed flowers.

I suppose he’d had the name ready for a long time, even then. His parents were shiftless and unsuccessful farm people—his imagination had never really accepted them as his parents at all. The truth was that Jay Gatsby of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself.

I think he hardly knew what he was saying

Taking a white card from his wallet, he waved it before the man’s eyes.

He broke off and began to walk up and down a desolate path of fruit rinds and discarded favours and crushed flowers.

“I feel far away from her,

She knew this coffee-drinking guy wanted tohave sex with her, and she was considering it, but he wasn't improv-ing his chances by making her feel stupid.

She sat at a Mac and logged on.Her user name was "CrazyIndian," and her password was "StillCrazy."

I kept shouting, 'I want some respect! I want some respect!' Ishouted it all day and all night. And nobody gave me any respect. Iwas asking directly for it, and people just kept walking around me.Avoiding me. Not even looking at me. Not even acknowledging m

For her, each great book was

I led him to the silver chair at thehearth and poured wine. His face was pleasant, and he leaned for-ward again, as if eager for whatever I might offer

You are kind, but I think we both know it is not. soon as I wason board, the seas around me lifted wrathful heads. The sky dark-ened to iron. I tried to turn the fleet around, but it was too late. Herstorm spun us far off from Troy." He rubbed his knuckles as if theyached. "Now when I speak to her, she does not answer.

About the only thing they had in common was that they were both Asian American, but even thatjust obscured the gulf between their backgrounds: Hsu’s parents had immigrated from Taiwan,whereas Ken’s Japanese American family had lived in the United States for genera

We dispatched you with all kindness, to ensure you’d come 65safely to home and country, or wherever you wanted.’

When I asked him about our own journey, wanted his helpin sending us on our way, he denied me nothing,

June did this, June did that, she savedmoney and helped clean the house and cookedand Connie couldn't do a thing, her mindwas all filled with trashy daydreams.

If any person strike another on the head so that the brain appears, and the three bones which lie above the brain shall project, he shall be sentenced to 1200 denars, which make 30 shillings. 4. But if it shall have been between the ribs or in the stomach, so that the wound appears and reaches to the entrails, he shall be sentenced to 1200 denars-which make 30 shillings-besides five shillings for the physician's pay.

that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones.

Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meet

John sinks down in his seat, afraid she is going to ask him questions as well. He pulls out his phone and looksthrough social media to keep her from bothering him. As other students enter the class, some quiet andothers talkative, John wonders if he will have to interact with them. Even though he has not met many peopleyet–and certainly has not had any deep conversations with anyone–he feels anxious about having to get toknow strangers and feels most comfortable keeping to himself at least fo

my mask is powerful

I go down. My flippers cripple me, I crawl like an insect down the ladder and there is no one to tell me when the ocean will begin.

First having read the book of myths, and loaded the camera,

And now: it is easy to forget what I came for among so many who have always lived here

d. Everyone is looking at something a child can'tsee. For a minute they've forgotten the children. Maybe a kidis lying on the rug, half asleep.

That's right.

For, whilethe tale of how we suffer, and how we are delighted, and howwe may triumph is never new, it always must be heard.

Creolebegan to tell us what the blues were all about. They were notabout anything very new.

A teacher passed through themevery now and again, quickly, as though he or she couldn'twait to get out of that courtyard, to get those boys out of theirsight and off their minds.

They wept aloud and shed thick-flowing tears,but all their lamenting accomplished nothing for them.

my wife's word,imeparable-Beulah' s health went into a rapid decline. S

her lastthought maybe this: that he never even knew what she lookedlike, and she on an express to the grave.

Imagi~e a womanwho could never see herself as she was seen in the eyes of herloved one.

She went in and swallowed all thepills and capsules in the medicine chest and washed them downwith a bottle of gin.

And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping aboutbehind that pattern. I don’t like it a bit. I wonder— I begin tothink— Iwish John would take me away from here!

How do you know what my name is?" she said suspiciously

I toldja shut up, Ellie," Arnold Friend said,

Maybe you two better go away," Connie said faintly."What? How come?" Arnold Friend cried. "We come out here to take you for a ride.

I took a special interest in you, such a pretty girl, and found out all about you—like I know your parents and sister are gone somewheres and I know where and how longthey're going to be gone, and I know who you were with last night, and your best girlfriend's name is Betty. Right?"

"Connie, you ain't telling the truth. This is your day set aside for a ride with me andyou know it," he said, still laughing. The way he straightened and recovered from his fit oflaughing showed that it had been all fak

This here is my name, to begin with, he said. ARNOLD FRIENDwas written in tarlike black letters on the side,

"Aunt Tillie's. Right now they're uh—they're drinking. Sitting around," he saidvaguely, squinting as if he were staring all the way to town and over to Aunt Tillie's backyard. Then the vision seemed to get clear and he nodded energetically.

She stood

He looked at her. He took off the sunglasses and she saw how pale the skin around hiseyes was, like holes that were not in shadow but instead in light. His eyes were like chipsof broken glass that catch the light in an amiable way.

even her neck!

I don’t like our room a bit. I wanted one downstairs thatopened on the piazza and had roses all over the window, andsuch pretty, old-fashioned chintz hangings! but John wouldnot hear of it.He said there was only one window and not room for twobeds, and no near room for him if he took an other.He is very careful and loving, and hardly lets me stir withoutspecial direction

I’ve got out at last,” said I, “in spite of you and Jane! AndI’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!”

Very early in the morning on February 28, after they’ve spoken to Jay, after Jay has shown them where Hae’s car wasparked off Edgewood Road, the detectives come into Adnan’s bedroom and wake him up, tell him to put some clotheson , it’s time to go

I don’t know

The brute took up his position on the wash-basin stand; and every attempt to dislodge him brought to the ground some fragile articles of furniture — glasses, basins, and jugs

caught driving a car that had been the propethe victim

Feeding time at the Zoo! The animals are very regular in their habits

You can come with me. We’ve won, my dear! We’ve won

None of us are going to leave the island. That’s the plan. You know it, of course, perfectly.What, perhaps, you can’t understand is the relief!”

“How was it possible,”

So you might start by writing down every single thing youcan remember from your first few years in sch

"I don't even know where to start,

The throat of the old lady was not merely cut, but the head absolutely severed from the body

After a thorough investigation of every portion of the house, without farther discovery, the party made its way into a small paved yard in the rear of the building, where lay the corpse of the old lady, with her throat so entirely cut that, upon an attempt to raise her, the head fell off.{i} The body, as well as the head, was{j} fearfully mutilated — the former so much so as scarcely to retain any semblance of humanity.

We know of them, among other things, that they are always to their possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliest enjoyment.

Coincidences, in general, are great stumbling-blocks in the way of that class of thinkers who have been educated to know nothing{q} of the theory of probabilities

but an unusual quantity of soot being observed in the fire-place, a search was made in the chimney, and (horrible to relate!)(24) the corpse of the daughter, head downward,{h} was dragged therefrom; it having been thus forced up the narrow aperture for a considerable distance.

The faculty of re-solution{d} is possibly much invigorated by mathematical study, and especially by that highest branch of it which, unjustly, and merely on account of its retrograde operations, has been called, as if par excellence, analysis. Yet to calculate is not in itself to analyse. A chess-player, for example, does the one without effort at the other. It follows that the game of chess, in its effects upon mental character, is greatly misunderstood. I am not now writing a treatise, but simply prefacing a somewhat peculiar narrative by observations very much at random; I will, therefore, take occasion to assert that the higher powers of the reflective intellect are more decidedly and more usefully tasked{e} by the unostentatious game of draughts than by all the elaborate frivolity of chess. In this latter, where the pieces have different and bizarre{f} motions, with various and variable values, what{g} is only complex is mistaken (a not unusual error) for what{h} is profound. The attention is here called powerfully into play. If it flag for an instant, an oversight is committed, resulting in injury or defeat. The possible moves being not only manifold but involute, the chances of such oversights are multiplied; and in nine cases out of ten it is the more concentrative rather than the more acute player who conquers. In draughts, on the contrary, where the moves are unique{i} and have but little variation, the probabilities of inadvertence are diminished, [page 529:] and the mere attention being left comparatively unemployed, what advantages are obtained by either party are obtained by superior acumen.{j} To be less abstract — Let us suppose a game of draughts where the pieces are reduced to four kings, and where, of course, no oversight is to be expected. It is obvious that here the victory can be decided (the players being at all equal) only by some recherché{k} movement, the result of some strong exertion of the intellect. Deprived of ordinary resources, the analyst throws himself into the spirit of his opponent, identifies himself therewith, and not unfrequently sees thus, at a glance, the sole methods (sometimes indeed absurdly simple ones) by which he may seduce into {ll}error or hurry into miscalculation.{ll}

There appeared to be no furniture in any part of the building except in the fourth story.

“I will explain,” he said, “and that you may comprehend all clearly, we will first retrace the course of your meditations, from the moment in which I spoke to you until that of the rencontre{j} with the fruiterer in question. The larger links of the chain run thus — Chantilly, Orion, Dr. Nichol,{k} (16) Epicurus, Stereotomy, the street stones, the fruiterer.” There are few persons who have not, at some period of their lives, amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particular conclusions of their own minds have been attained. The occupation is often full of interest; and he who attempts it for the first time is{l} astonished by the apparently illimitable distance and incoherence between the starting-point and the goal.(17) What, then, must have been my amazement when I heard the Frenchman speak what he had just spoken, and when I could not help acknowledging that he had spoken the truth. He continued: “We had been talking of horses, if I remember aright, just before leaving the Rue C———. This was the last subject we discussed. As we crossed into this street, a fruiterer, with a large basket upon his head, brushing quickly past us, thrust you upon a pile of paving-stones collected at a spot where the causeway is undergoing repair. You stepped upon one of the loose fragments, slipped, slightly strained your ankle, appeared vexed or sulky, muttered a few words, turned to look{m} at the pile, and then proceeded in silence. I was not particularly attentive to what you did; but observation has become with me, of late, a species of necessity. “You kept your eyes upon the ground — glancing, with a petulant expression, at the holes and ruts in the pavement, (so that I saw you were still thinking of the stones,) until we reached the little alley called Lamartine,(18) which has been paved, by way of [page 536:] experiment, with the overlapping and riveted blocks.(19) Here your countenance brightened up, and, perceiving your lips move, I could not doubt that you murmured{n} the{oo} word ‘stereotomy,’ a term very affectedly applied to this species of pavement.{oo} I knew that you could not {pp}say to yourself ‘stereotomy’ without{pp}, being brought to think of atomies, and thus of the theories of Epicurus;(20) and since{q} when we discussed this subject not very long ago, I mentioned to you how singularly, yet with how little notice, the vague guesses of that noble Greek had met with confirmation in the late nebular cosmogony, I felt that you could not avoid casting your eyes upward{r} to the great nebula{s} in Orion,(21) and I certainly expected that you would do so. You did look up; and I was now{t} assured that I had correctly followed your steps. But in that bitter tirade upon Chantilly, which appeared in yesterday's ‘Musée,’ the satirist, making some disgraceful allusions to the cobbler's change of name upon assuming the buskin, quoted a{u} Latin line{v} about which{w} we have often conversed. I mean the line {xx}Perdidit antiquum litera prima sonum{xx} I had told you that this was in reference to Orion, formerly written Urion; and, from certain pungencies connected with this explanation, I was aware that you could not have forgotten it.(22) It was clear, therefore, that you would not fail to combine the two ideas of Orion and Chantilly. That you did combine them I saw by the character of the smile which passed over your lips. You thought of the poor cobbler's immolation. So far, you had been stooping in your gait; but now I saw you draw yourself up to your full height. I was then sure that you reflected upon the diminutive figure of Chantilly. At this point I interrupted your meditations to remark [page 537:] that as, in fact, he was a very little fellow — that Chantilly — he would do better at the Théâtre des Variétés.”{y}

The piece has a fault, shared by too many later detective stories, of one too gory passage, something avoided in the far finer tale, “The Purloined Letter,” which Poe himself valued more highly.

The{a} mental features discoursed of as the analytical{a′} are, in themselves, but little, susceptible of analysis.

Like all the rest [of the tales], it is written backwards.

Some, for example, require ascreenshot or link to the original text produced by the AI program, so they cansee how the student altered it.

Her goal was todiscourage AI use

Some faculty members said theyfeared colleges failed to recognize the potential dangers of AI, and argued for acomplete ban, better detection tools, and a return to in-class, pen-and-papertest-taking.

You need to know exactly what your subject is and what you plan to say about it

You failed to address your audience by wasting their time writing below their level.

This fails as the previous example does, but in opposite ways. It addresses subject, audience, and purpose in ineffective ways by selecting abstract and indirect words, and by arranging them in convoluted phrases within a poor sentence structure.

Because adding research to your essays requires the use of others’ writing, and because many assignment require you to write about others’ writing, it is possible to plagiarize accidentally through incorrect citation.