There are so many reasons why I write. I don't really know if I can stop. but I've always said that I can not controle the urge to write in me. When I was happy or sad I just started writing. At first, I thought it was just for fun but day by day this became a part of me. I don't know when this happened with me, I just found myself unable to stop writing.This started at first when I was eight. I remember writing my first love story. I used to think about Prince Charming and his princess and what would happen with them in the end. Once/When I found that they were not destined to be together, I became agressive. I don't know what happened with me but that's why my mother didn't want me to read any more sad love story. After that I started writing. I found it funny at first, being able to create people, and making them be whatever you wanted was a very interesting idea to me. I think that's why I started the whole thing; at first it was just for fun. but Then I met him. It was the most perfect meeting ever. I remember it like it was yesterday. He was amazing and very handsome .He was just the person who I tried to write about in my stories but i simply couldn't. Every time I tried, there was something that stopped me to. Our first meeting was in the highschool. He was my english teacher. I finally found the one who I'd been searching for a long time ago.He was very supportive and helpful. Whenever I turned around I would always find him there for me. A friend, a teacher and a father at the same time. You really can't imagine how close we were. He would help me fix my stories and I finally found them much better and more interesting than before. At that time, I couldn't believe that it was me who wrote them all. Every time I finished a story, he would bring me ice cream to celebrate. We had the most fabulous times together. He didn't have a daughter so he treated me as one. no i think even his daughter will never get love that he gaved me??.I know that because I stayed with him long enough to know every single thing he loved and cared about. Unfortunatly, as my mother used to say, good things don't last long enough to enjoy them. He passed away last year. I was very shocked ,so i couldn't talk or eat. It was the saddest thing I've ever known. My grandfather died before him so why didn't I feel the same pain for him as I felt for my teacher?
Chapter One
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
"Do not you want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.
"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."
This was invitation enough.
"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."
"What is his name?"
"Bingley."
"Is he married or single?"
"Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"
"How so? how can it affect them?"
"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."
"Is that his design in settling here?"
"Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as hecomes.
"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for, as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the bestof the party."
"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be any thing extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."
"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."
"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood."
"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."
"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know they visit no new comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not."
"You are over scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy."
"I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.
"They have none of them much to recommend them , replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of quick-ness than her sisters."
"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves."
"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least."
"Ah! you do not know what I suffer."
"But I hope you will get over it, and live to seemany young men of four thousand a year come intothe neighbourhood."
"It will be no use to us if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them."
"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty I will visit them all."
Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to developer She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.
i loveeee korea that's why i'm thinking of a trip next holiday i'll definetly enjoy and i really want to have friends there what a wonderfull place to visit i really do want to go there and taste food and learn the language i would love to go and what aboute you guys????
actially this type of discussin is not suppose o share wih anyone but since yu are my friends now i'd proboby ask the most difficult questions i'v ever thought about love is really a difficult thing but how can i ever full in love and how am i suppose to know himif he is there for me or not anyway i actially belived in it but i have never felt this felings i mean how could you love a person that much and care aboute him and of caurse spend all night thiking aboute him????????????? ho is that feeling i really want to figure out
seriouslt,i've done what ever it takes in my exams.I fell happy for some of them and insatisfied for many so don't ask me why.This is all i could do simply.Anyway,i'm glad that i can be the second in my class.I think so maybe the third i don't know
So what have you done??? Good not great i know that what i would say if i were you so don't be shy and tell me the truth i will be happy if you could be honest with me.
Anyway,enough talking about boring exams.I just wanted to tell you that every Monday you can watch harry potter at 6 pmin MBC2 so don't miss the chance of waching the last serie
for all of you guys can you help me with my project work.I have to do it for tomorrow.It's about my country so what are the rasons to make the visitors come to hammamet in tunisia. please help me
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.
And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.
And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
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