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Night
I remember that night although to most people, every night is the same as the one before. I was sitting on my bed, reading a novel when I realized it was dark, and the lamp in my room seemed to be the only source of light on Earth. I opened a window and looked at the night sky, clean and pure, filled with stars. I was surprised at the starry night because the smog of civilization has gradually built a wall between the human eye and the stars above. I decided to go for a walk, and explore the darkness I had discovered through my bedroom window. When I stepped outside, I could immediately feel the fresh night air filling my lungs; the chilly air had fully embraced me. I was feeling safe although I was completely alone as the streets were empty. I kept walking and looking at the sky from time to time, for fear that the stars would suddenly disappear. Images started to flood my mind; my brain seemed completely open, and I was neither inhibited nor worried about anything for the first time in ages. It must have been that absence of visual stimuli which characterizes the night: everything was still, and for a moment in time, I was one with my surroundings and in total harmony with my own thoughts.
The same pattern every single day, light follows darkness, and vice versa, I quietly thought to myself. Now everything was pitch black, quiet and still. I could not help but get the feeling that someone was following me, so I kept looking over my shoulder hoping to make eye contact with my stalker, forgetting that human eyes could not pierce through darkness. The quiet of the night was overwhelming at first, and breathing sounded almost like a symphony. As Robert Frost wrote in his back in 1923, I have been acquainted with the night. If you think about it, very few things have remained the same over the centuries, or even the decades. The night is still a source of fascination for both regular people, as well as artists. In many ways, I think that the mysteries of the night will never be uncovered because when darkness covers the Earth, secrets are safe, and imagination remains the only tool of exploration.
Night by Elie Wiesel Though it is called a novel, Night (Wiesel 1982) is actually a memoir about Wiesel's experiences as a young, devout Jewish boy who is forced by World War II Nazis into a concentration camp, along with his family. The main character, Eliezer, is actually Wiesel, and through his descriptions and thoughts about his life before, during and after the concentration camps, Wiesel illustrates ways that people may
How the German army used this deception can be best quoted from Night when the Pole in charge of the block where Eliezer was kept with other men said, "Comrades, you are now in the concentration camp Auschwitz. Ahead of you lies a long road paved with suffering. Do not lose hope. You have already eluded the worst danger: the selection. Therefore, muster your strength and keep your faith.
There are so many abuses; it is difficult to believe that anyone managed to survive the brutal conditions in the camps. The Jews had literally nothing to eat but scraps of bread, the Nazis often punished the entire camp for the slightest mistake. For example, he remembers the Nazis forcing them to stand still while they were naked in the snow, and he recounts a Nazi guard's rape of
Night That She Lived The narrator of this work gives the indication that the setting of the work is a deathbed, it might be in a hospital as there are reportedly others who will go on living that engender in the dying woman and those who presumably care about her a sense of jealousy, "That others could exist / While she must finish quite,/A jealousy for her arose/So nearly infinite"
Night," by Elie Wiesel, "The Plague," by Albert Camus, and the "I Have a Dream" speech, by Martin Luther King, Jr. Specifically, it will discuss the views of human nature held by Wiesel, Camus, and King. Are people basically good or bad? Who is more optimistic or pessimistic? Who is right? Martin Luther King, Jr. is the optimist of these three writers, but each author makes the reader think,
This led to his arrest and multiple attempts at escape from the country and trips in and out of El Morro where ironically, he claimed a celibate lifestyle. Arenas began his literary career by entering a storytelling contest. This led to his being given a writing job at the Biblioteca Nacional Jose Marti in 1963. He then produced a number of short novellas. In 1965 at 22 he his first