Please help fast Many movies are based on books. Some people think that the book is always better than the movie, but this is not true. There are plenty of reasons why movies are better than books.

First, books are things that you can only enjoy alone. Movies are different. Whether you get together at a theater or have a movie night at a friend’s house, movies are a social activity. No one ever said: “Hey, let’s hang out and read a book tonight!” Movies are better than books because they bring people together.

Next, books take too long to read. Some books are short, but many books can be hundreds of pages long. In contrast, most movies are only two hours long. You can enjoy a movie in a single afternoon. You could even enjoy two or three! But some books can take weeks or even months to read.

Finally, books are just plain less exciting. Movies have special effects, dramatic music, and talented actors who bring the story to life. Books, on the other hand, usually just have words! What is more exciting, reading a tedious description of a high-speed car chase, or actually getting to see one?

Books may have more detail and let you use your imagination more, but movies are way more fun and enjoyable. In my opinion, movies are far superior to books.

No sources were consulted in the composition of this passage.

Challenge Question
What's this
Which of the following sentences would best fit in paragraph 2?

A
You can laugh with your friends at a funny movie or hide behind one another at a scary movie.

B
When Kaito joined his neighborhood book club, he made dozens of new friends.

C
Sometimes movies are much different than the books they are based on.

D
Some movies may be too scary for some people to enjoy.

Which sentence in this excerpt from leo tolstoy’s the death of ivan ilyich shows the human tendency to contemplate one’s past life? "but if that is so," he said to himself, "and i am leaving this life with the consciousness that i have lost all that was given me and it is impossible to rectify it—what then? " he lay on his back and began to pass his life in review in quite a new way. in the morning when he saw first his footman, then his wife, then his daughter, and then the doctor, their every word and movement confirmed to him the awful truth that had been revealed to him during the night. in them he saw himself—all that for which he had lived—and saw clearly that it was not real at all, but a terrible and huge deception which had hidden both life and death. this consciousness intensified his physical suffering tenfold. he groaned and tossed about, and pulled at his clothing which choked and stifled him. and he hated them on that account. he was given a large dose of opium and became unconscious, but at noon his sufferings began again. he drove everybody away and tossed from side to side. his wife came to him and said: "jean, my dear, do this for me. it can't do any harm and often . healthy people often do it." he opened his eyes wide. "what? take communion? why? it's unnecessary! " she began to cry. "yes, do, my dear. i'll send for our priest. he is such a nice man." "all right. very well," he muttered. when the priest came and heard his confession, ivan ilyich was softened and seemed to feel a relief from his doubts and consequently from his sufferings, and for a moment there came a ray of hope. he again began to think of the vermiform appendix and the possibility of correcting it. he received the sacrament with tears in his eyes.