he descriptive essay is a genre of essay that asks the student to describe an object‚ person‚ place‚ experience‚ emotion‚ situation‚ etc. This genre encourages the student’s ability to create a written account of a particular experience. What is more‚ this genre allows for a great deal of artistic freedom (the goal of which is to paint an image that is vivid and moving in the mind of the reader). One might benefit from keeping in mind this simple maxim: If the reader is unable to clearly form
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wants‚ eat what he wants‚ learns what he wants‚ and chooses the religion in which he believes‚ without ignoring or harming other rights. If we were to analyze freedom from a historical point of view‚ we would think of all the stories that were told‚ about the struggles people were put through to get their own rights. Blacks had to endure slavery and go through wars to achieve their freedoms. As Malcolm x said “ If you’re not ready to die for it‚ put the word ’freedom’ out of your vocabulary” . Abraham
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Maine: Pine Tree State In the night’s high tides I look out for boats that are out in the ocean with my oversized flashlight up on the highest point in the lighthouse. “Is anyone out there!?” I yell. I end up finding no response. All that I can hear is the waves crashing onto the rocks. But then for an inexplicable reason‚ everything feels slower‚ colder… It’s snowing! I think to myself. I run down the stairs of the lighthouse and What do I see? I see the snow piled on the grass like solid
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Writing A Descriptive Essay To write a descriptive essay you first need to choose a character. It may be heroes‚ monsters‚ or none of these. You need to search for a book or poem. After you read the book or poem you choose the character that creates a distinctive impression on you. It may be from major characters to minor characters. You have to focus in the one scene where the character you choose attracted your attention. Use all information you can find from that scene in order to make
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Eighteen years ago‚ my parents moved to the United States from Ukraine to create a better life for our family. Growing up here I found myself becoming easily accustomed to the American ways‚ but even though my family and I may have gotten used to that way of life we never lost sight of our Ukrainian culture. When I think about it‚ the best way that I can describe what my culture is like would be a jigsaw puzzle. When making a puzzle one begins with connecting as many pieces to each other until the
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From Link: http://www.freeessayexample.com/2009/11/descriptive-essay.html Descriptive Essay A lot of folks depict paradise as lying on some remote island overlooking a stunning sunset while feeling the sand between their toes. My conception may be somewhat different than most people. I can envision beaming music‚ and people as they frolic. Where the party never stops‚ it keeps going and going like the Energizer bunny. The scenery will be the most divine of anything on this earth‚ more so than
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stress. For me‚ the beach is the ultimate cure to all of my problems. While I am there‚ all of my obligations suddenly vanish. As I stroll along‚ I can feel the soft smooth sand beneath my feet. As I take in the soothing atmosphere that encircles me‚ I close my eyes‚ letting myself absorb the warming rays of the sun on a perfect summer day. I am comforted by the sounds of the ocean; the rhythmic pounding of the waves represses all of my concerns. I look into the cloudless blue sky and see the perfection
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leaves a great image in people?s minds; however‚ sometimes those images can associate with an opposite feeling like tiredness and anger. It was in the afternoon‚ around four; I was sitting on the beach‚ looking at the sea and the sun‚ and waiting for my friend. I enjoyed looking into the horizon of the sea where the sky and the water were merging together‚ how the waves were covering each other‚ and the sun that was reflecting its rays from the water. The sun was high up in the sky spreading its rays
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roar of cheers and applause hits my ears—it is a Sunday night football game at the Chiefs. As my aunt and I walk to the gates‚ we are confronted by two massive men patting another down. We get closer to the gate and I hear the clicking of the tickets—a beautiful song in a surprisingly synchronized rhythm. We then walk to our seats fighting our way through the crowded channels of hallways. We find our seats—front row on the 50 yard line—and settle into them. My nose is instantly bombarded with the
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each other; he stepped like a person that never reached his destiny. He came near me and broke the silence with a sincere voice that slipped through his throat‚ as it approached the cavity regarded with the gift of sound‚ said to me “I missed you”. My grandfather is a worn and skilled man. His ancient body unveils the arduous work he has gone through. The integument of the upper part of his head has lost most of his shiny hair like the leaves of an old tree succumbing by the pass of the years
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