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Mariana [72]
3 years ago
5

is abbey using ethos, pathos, or logos when he chooses words with positive and negative connotative meanings to describe Glen Ca

nyon before and after it was dammed?
English
1 answer:
xxMikexx [17]3 years ago
3 0

he is using ethos tell me if im wrong

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The use of the phrase "fly in the ointment" can be traced to these lines from the Bible:
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<span><span><span>Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour: so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour. (from Eccl. 10:1 King James Version) 
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B) a minor flaw that ruins a person or object is the answer I would choose. The idea is that the fly which is in the ointment or perhaps in a soup, in itself is not a big problem but is serious enough to contaminate the ointment or say the soup or put people off by just the thought of it even though it is removed.
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Hello I'm writing a book and I would like your opinion on it! This is just the beginning few pages and I'm not done yet.
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Love this, but Grammarly could help you with passive voice misuse and punctuation, etc. I added and fixed up your paragraphs, hope this helps! :) (Just copy paste <3 :))

Explanation:

“Gale! Is Gale here today students?” I ran into class, the rain was pouring and I was drenched. Every speckle was so very small, delicate, and clear. I always admired the rain, to me, it was a sign but I had not known of what. I sat down on my chair, as the floors got wet as I left a trail of water behind me. I hadn't realized that I soaked the floors, or that my jacket was cold and saturated. As I took my jacket off and put it in the cubby that was placed by Arnold Peter's, he shot me a stone-cold gaze, then grabbed me by the collar of my jacket that I had only half-off, and slammed me to the floor.

I looked up to see his face and then I met his eyes, they looked cold and pitiful. “Gale! Who do you think you are coming into my class late <em>and</em> picking a fight?! The nerve of kids these days is impeccable!” She mumbled under her breath a few slurs. It was Mrs. Walter. She sent me to the principal's office and told me to see her during lunch to mop the wet floor. The principal threatened me with the classic trick of calling my parents. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I just stood there. Blank. He then called me a disgrace and told me to be ashamed of myself.

During lunch, I sit alone while the other kids giggle away. I even hear them talk about me. I didn’t have anything to eat and my parents didn’t pay for my lunch. I guess I didn’t mind starving, I was already used to it. The past 15 years of my life ran this way. I was interrupted from my daydreaming when Mrs. Walter took me to her class and had me start mopping the floor. She told me that I needed to fix my attitude and about how badly my grades were suffering. It wasn’t even my fault that the other kids liked to tease me. But then again, I was used to it. As the wet floors got dry, I noticed something.

The water looked like it was shining, every speckle, glimmered. The lunch bell rings and I rush to my next class, I was hungry and wet from the morning rain so I didn’t care much about the fascination the water brought to me. The last bell rang and I ran home. The rain poured but I found comfort in it. I looked down at the bakery that was owned by Emma Walterson, my neighbor.

She's a 45-year-old woman who always cares for me and asks questions. Sometimes she even takes me to her house and lets me play on her son's consoles. I don’t think he liked me much. I wasn't looking where I was going and got lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, the rain started pouring harder.

Kids were running as their parents pulled up an umbrella. Some had friends that shared umbrellas with them. Some didn’t have one but they enjoyed the company they got from their friends. Then in a flash, there was no one there. I guessed they had all rushed home and I was just left standing there.

I started to run, faster and faster, but it was like time had frozen. I looked around to see the rain. It wasn’t falling, the trees in the distance were put, not moving. As I turned my head around, trying to make sense out of what was happening, the ground started to shake. I tried pinching myself, thinking I was having a bad dream. It wasn’t a dream. At all. Three oddly looking shapes appeared in front of me. About 6 feet tall, rectangular and lustrous, they weren't alive and stood still. They were objects and, as I looked closer, each of them had a symbol.

The first symbol was a droplet of water. The second was a swirl, like the wind. And the third was a hand that held up a flower. I touched each symbol. The first symbol felt like real water as if I was standing by a river, feeling the water flow.

The second symbol, the gushes of air, felt like a comforting autumn breeze, which was no surprise. The third symbol, I couldn’t feel. It was just the atmosphere. I then got an urge to fall into a slumber. I stumbled and fell down on the ground. My long, silky black hair fell in front of my eyes and my skin became pale. My bright cerulean eyes closed.

At that moment, I was alone, tired, and starving. No one was there to help me, to carry me, to give me a hand, to lend a shoulder that I could lean on. It was just me, myself, and I, and I didn’t know where I was, let alone what was happening to me. I wished for a new start to my so-called life.

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