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Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am the diamond glints on the snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain; I am the gentle autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night.
Chekhov's gun (or Chekhov's rifle; Russian: Чеховское ружьё) is a narrative principle that states that every element in a story must be necessary and irrelevant elements should be removed. For example, if a writer features a gun in a story, there must be a reason for it, such as it being fired some time later in the plot.
Noble suggests it does not receive academic attention because of its consistent status as a best-seller ("If that many people like it, it can't be any good.") and that general readers seem to feel they do not require analytical interpretation. [53] Harper Lee had remained famously detached from interpreting the novel since the mid-1960s.
In journalism, the failure to mention the most important, interesting or attention-grabbing elements of a story in the first paragraph is sometimes called "burying the lead". Most standard news leads include brief answers to the questions of who, what, why, when, where, and how the key event in the story took place. In newspaper writing, the ...
Circling back to that NYT story on “Lover,” while acknowledging that the word “lover” can be polarizing — “anything I do is polarizing,” she replied — Swift may have even dropped a ...
When Taylor Swift drops new music, fans know to look out for everything around the songs. The outfits, the fonts, the music videos and more also tell a story — the story of that album’s ...
The Guardian credits rap culture and Black vernacular language as early pioneers of the word, with A Tribe Called Quest releasing "Vibes and Stuff" in 1991 and Quincy Jones notably launching Vibe ...
We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance.