Orwell seems to have very few positive things to say about the use of rhetorical devices. In just a few words, how would you characterize his attitude toward using these devices? Is his attitude absolute? That is, does it apply to every instance in which one might embellish one's language, or are there exceptions to his "rules"?

Read this section: “for us girls, that doorway was like a magical entrance to our own special world. as we skipped through, we cast off our head scarves and ran helter-skelter up the steps.” based on malala’s description of her school, we can infer that the setting gives the feeling a) vulnerability b) excitement c) happiness d) freedom

Select the correct answer. which theme is evident in this excerpt from alfred lord tennyson’s narrative poem “the charge of the light brigade”? “forward, the light brigade! ” was there a man dismayed? not though the soldier knew someone had blundered. theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die. into the valley of death rode the six hundred. a. the folly of ambition and greed b. the inability of humans to face death c. the heroism of unquestioning sacrifice d. the futility of obedience

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream