For five of the following six passages, identify the author and specific text. Indicate the form of the work (story, essay, or poem). In a well-developed paragraph, analyze the meaning of the quote and explain its significance to the work as a whole. For instance, how does the passage reveal theme or show characteristics of language use common to the entire work? [For example, does the quote employ metaphor, allusions, rhyme, dialect, formal language, irony? What effects are achieved by this language?] The discussion for each quote is worth 15 points.
Suddenly, her mother knelt on the floor and took her by the wrists. “Rosie,” she said urgently, “Promise me you will never marry!” Shocked more by the request than the revelation, Rosie stared at her mother’s face. Jesus, Jesus, she called silently, not certain whether she was invoking the help of the son of the Carrascos or of God, until there returned sweetly the memory of Jesus’ hand, how it had touched her and where.
When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie
Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.
The tigers in the panel that she made Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.
In your hand is the brown bag. On the ground before you is the jumble it held–so much like the jumble in the bags, could they be emptied, that all might be dumped in a single heap and the bags refilled without altering the content of any greatly. A bit of colored glass more or less would not matter. Perhaps that is how the Great Stuffer of Bags filled them in the first place–who knows?
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, –let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.
Did Persephone, snatched from the warm fields of Enna, peer half-consentingly down the abyss that opened at her feet? Paulina it must be owned, hung a moment over the black gulf of temptation. She would have found it easy to cope with a deliberate disregard of her grandfather’s rights; but young Winsloe’s unconsciousness of that shadowy claim was as much a natural function as the falling of leaves on a grave. His love was an embodiment of the perpetual renewal which to some tender spirits seems a crueller process than decay. On women of Paulina’s mold this piety toward implicit demands, toward the ghosts of dead duties walking unappeased among usurping passions, has a stronger hold than any tangible bond.
And she began to chat away to her husband in the friendliest and wifeliest fashion possible. When she had finished she asked him if he were not glad to hear that those who loved as did the young lovers whose secrets she had been keeping, were to be united; and he replied that indeed he was; that he would like every man to be as happy with a wife as he himself had ever been and ever would be.
“You did not always talk like that . . . . You must have been reading my American poetry books!”
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