Answer:
don't
Explanation:
Pretty sure it's don't because it's negative. I DON'T like snow, is something negative to say.
Answer: Subject/Predicate, Action Verb
Answer:
Suddenly it dawns on me: <u>the </u>scope of the impending conflict is truly monumental. I had known back in <u>october</u> that political disagreement had reached an all-time high, but I couldn’t have imagined the magnitude of change that was coming down the line.
The canadians tried desperately to have world leaders unite one more time, as seen in a quotation by their prime minister, “knowing the potential and significant impact of countries refusing to negotiate at this point, I would plead with world leaders to make concessions and seek peaceful resolution.” The President <u>hamer</u>, while ostensibly in agreement, made only superficial efforts to realize this eleventh hour maneuver. <u>otherwise</u>, there was little interest, as explained by the lieutenant Governor Steeves of Australia, “<u>many</u> have tried to initiate productive conversations between the competing global forces, without success. Unfortunately, the time for such talks is past.”
Thus is a summary of <u>world</u> <u>affairs</u> leading to our confinement four levels deep underground.
Explanation:
All underlines are suppose to be capitalized
Now is the winter of our discontentMade glorious summer by this son of York,And all the clouds that loured upon our houseIn the deep bosom of the ocean buried.Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,Our bruisèd arms hung up for monuments,Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front;And now, instead of mounting barbèd steedsTo fright the souls of fearful adversaries,He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamberTo the lascivious pleasing of a lute.But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,Nor made to court an amorous looking glass;I, that am rudely stamped and want love’s majestyTo strut before a wanton ambling nymph;I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion,Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,Deformed, unfinished, sent before my timeInto this breathing world, scarce half made up,And that so lamely and unfashionableThat dogs bark at me as I halt by them—Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,Have no delight to pass away the time,Unless to see my shadow in the sunAnd descant on mine own deformity.
