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And he will not only rise to the occasion. “He’s never been asked-not once in his whole life. “He’s never needed to,” my brother insists. “Henry has never been one to rise to the occasion,” she states plainly. And, frankly, I’m disheartened that you don’t.” Granny’s too, if her whisper is any indication. The shock of my brother’s words has knocked the air right out of my lungs. But I didn’t because I knew in my heart and soul that Henry will not just be a good king, he will be better than I ever could’ve been.”įor a moment I don’t breathe. “Don’t mistake me-I wouldn’t have married anyone but Olivia, and I would’ve waited a lifetime if I had to, until the laws were changed.
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“I damn well do! I never would have abdicated otherwise.” My chest constricts so tight it feels like my bones may crack. On his current course, Henry will fail spectacularly.” He caught her when she breathlessly launched herself into his arms. Happy,she ran across the grass to meet him. There was a bond here that might inch him closer to her. It was wonderful to have stumbled on family this way. Gennie heard him murmur something that had Serena giving a low, delicious laugh.įamily,she thought. She hooked her arm through Justin's and wandered away,making the suggestion that they see if anyone was using the pool. "If he's too slow, as some men are," she added with a meaningful glance at Justin, "I have a coin I'll lend you." At Gennie's baffled look, she chuckled. "Gennie," she said, laying a hand on her arm. She spotted Grant as he came out the front door. "Oh,yes." Serena leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. "Yes,he makes me happy-and he makes me unhappy. Gennie laughed and stuck her pencil behind her ear. Does he make you happy?" he asked, then tugged on his wife's hair. "I was making an observation," he countered. Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,įor Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill He hath brought many captives home to Rome He was my friend, faithful and just to me Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest. The good is oft interrèd with their bones. I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. She broke practically every one of my rules but the first. The greatest American short story writer of my generation was Flannery O'Connor (1925-1964). Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible.
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If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.Ĩ. No matter sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them-in order that the reader may see what they are made of.ħ. Every sentence must do one of two things-reveal character or advance the action.ĥ. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.Ĥ. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.ģ. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.Ģ. My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,Īnd men have lost their reason…. What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? You all did love him once, not without cause: I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:Īmbition should be made of sterner stuff: Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: He hath brought many captives home to Rome, He was my friend, faithful and just to me: Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, The noble BrutusĪnd grievously hath Caesar answered it. The good is oft interred with their bones,
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I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears