After 1865, thousands of settlers moved onto the Plains. Freed slaves went there to start a new life as freemen, or to escape economic problems after the Civil War. European immigrants flooded onto the Great Plains, seeking political or religious freedom, or simply to escape poverty in their own country.
It should be Mom or I can pick you up near the soccer field when you’re done.
Literature and the Holocaust have a complicated relationship. This isn't to say, of course, that the pairing isn't a fruitful one—the Holocaust has influenced, if not defined, nearly every Jewish writer since, from Saul Bellow to Jonathan Safran Foer, and many non-Jews besides, like W.G. Sebald and Jorge Semprun. Still, literature qua art—innately concerned with representation and appropriation—seemingly stands opposed to the immutability of the Holocaust and our oversized obligations to its memory. Good literature makes artistic demands, flexes and contorts narratives, resists limpid morality, compromises reality's details. Regarding the Holocaust, this seems unconscionable, even blasphemous. The horrors of Auschwitz and Buchenwald need no artistic amplification.
I am sure the answer is that Portia wishes that she were a young girl again.
Formal English is used, for example, in situations such as a formal letter of complaint or an application and in an essay.
