Personal Story My Disastrous Trip to the Dentist Essay Example For Students

35 Fossil Words

35 Fossil Words 35 Fossil Words 35 Fossil Words By Mark Nichol Probably the most fascinating words in the English language are what etymologists call fossil words, so named in light of the fact that they are antiquities from another period and endure just in secluded use. Here is a rundown of a portion of our language’s fossil words with definitions and the colloquial expressions in which they show up: 1. Ado: trouble over immaterial subtleties (â€Å"without further ado† or, all the more infrequently, â€Å"much ado about nothing†) 2. Amok (or amuck): in an uncontrolled way (â€Å"run amok†) 3. Bandy: hit, pass, or hurl around, or examine delicately or utilize off-handedly (â€Å"bandy about†); bowed (â€Å"bandy-legged†) 4. Bated: controlled or deducted (â€Å"wait with bated breath†) 5. Secure: amble for ground surface or for fixing or fortifying a joint or an adaptable article, for example, a sail (â€Å"board and batten†); to give or affix secures, or to attach (â€Å"batten down the hatches†) 6. Beck: summons (â€Å"at (one’s) beck and call†) 7. Former events: what has passed or is before (â€Å"let past events be bygones†) 8. Gizzard: stomach or yield (â€Å"sticks in (one’s) craw†) 9. Deserts: greatness or worth, or what is merited or justified (â€Å"just deserts†) 10. Dint: power or force (â€Å"by (sheer) dint of†) 11. Dudgeon: anger (â€Å"high dudgeon†) 12. Squeeze: achieve or get with trouble (â€Å"eke out†) 13. Fettle: condition of wellbeing or wellness (â€Å"in fine fettle†) 14. Fro: away or back (â€Å"to and fro†) 15. Robust: sound or extremely solid (â€Å"hale and hearty†) 16. Here: close or nearby, or to this spot (â€Å"hither and yon†) 17. Prehistoric: before memory or custom (â€Å"time immemorial†) 18. Jetsam: what is thrown over the edge from a boat (â€Å"flotsam and jetsam†) recognized from debris, a word indicating what coasts from the destruction of a boat (that term is utilized somewhere else than in the expression â€Å"flotsam and jetsam† as isn't recorded independently here) 19. Ken: scope of information, discernment, or comprehension, or view or scope of vision (â€Å"beyond (one’s) ken†) 20. Kith: companions, neighbors, or family members (â€Å"kith and kin†) 21. Loggerhead: nitwit (â€Å"at loggerheads,† importance blocked, or slowed down, by obstinacy); likewise, a sort of turtle 22. Determination: quality, or life or quality of, disposition (â€Å"test (one’s) mettle†) 23. Neap: a powerless tide (â€Å"neap tide†) 24. Offing: the not so distant future (â€Å"in the offing†); likewise, the profound sea as observed from the shore 25. Petard: a compartment of explosives for penetrating or breaking a boundary (â€Å"hoist by (one’s) petard†) 26. Kit n kaboodle: everything that is relevant (â€Å"the entire shebang†) 27. Confession: admission (â€Å"short shrift,† with the possibility that a censured individual is given brief period to admit sins) 28. Skill: trick, smoothness (â€Å"sleight of hand†) 29. There: increasingly remote, or to that place (â€Å"hither and thither†) 30. Turpitude: evil (â€Å"moral turpitude†) 31. Ulterior: past what is straightforwardly communicated (â€Å"ulterior motive†); likewise, more remote, or progressively far off, or what is on the more distant side 32. Vim: power (â€Å"vim and vigor†) 33. Unleash: achieve or cause (â€Å"wreak havoc†) 34. Created: made, ornamented, or molded, or energized (â€Å"wrought iron†) 35. Yesteryear: the far past (â€Å"days of yore†) Need to improve your English in a short time a day? Get a membership and begin accepting our composing tips and activities every day! Continue learning! Peruse the Vocabulary classification, check our mainstream posts, or pick a related post below:50 Idioms About Legs, Feet, and Toes15 Types of DocumentsConversational Email

The Book Designer A Great Resource for Self-Published Authors

The Book Designer A Great Resource for Self-Published Authors If you are a self-published author looking for practical, actionable, advice on publishing and book marketing, The Book Designer is a website you will definitely want to bookmark. The tagline of the site is Practical Advice To Help Build Better Books, and its fair to say the founder and owner, Joel Friedlander, delivers exactly what he promises. Friedlander is a successful self-published author, with a background in printing, graphic design, typography and book publishing that goes back to the early 1970s. He has grown with the industry, and now focuses his time and effort on bringing authors new ways to create, market and sell their books.Navigating the siteThe Book Designer is an easy site to navigate with all the important pages clearly displayed in a menu bar along the top of every page, and a sidebar that directs you to the many useful products and services the site offers for self-published authors. The home page is a regularly updated blog, with advice on a wide variety of top ics related to writing, publishing and marketing.The sidebar also contains a comprehensive, clickable list of topics covered in the blog, and at the bottom of the page, you will find a bar that allows you to browse the archives by month and year (they go back to August 2009). Below this, youll find a clickable topic list, to allow you to quickly navigate to a handy information page on any of the following topics:Self-PublishingBook DesignAuthor BloggingBook MarketingFonts TypographyAt the top of the home page, Friedlander offers his free guide, 10 Things You Need to Know About Self-Publishing. This is a 24-page eBook that provides tips, links, and resources for indie authors. Topics include:How to find freelance editorsHow to obtain and use ISBNsMaking sure your book has a great coverSocial media marketing for authorsReaders will need to provide and confirm their email address to download the free eBook.WritingThe Book Designer covers writing tips and techniques, as well as design and publishing. Topics covered in the articles in the writing section include:9 Mental Tools for Writing When the Clock is Ticking … and BeyondCreativityâ€"You Are Absolutely UniqueThe Ultimate Writers JournalWho Are You Going to Acknowledge in Your Book?Writers Tools and the Forgotten KeyboardRhythm and Pacing of Writing; The Final FlourishFollowing some of these links, I found solid, actionable, advice from both Friedlander himself and other contributors. The emphasis is on actual tools and techniques you can use to write not only well, but efficiently, productively, and systematically. There is a lot of practical advice, presented in an entertaining way, and very little fluff.Self-publishingSelf-Publishing advice is another large topic section within the blog. Following the link in the sidebar, I found several useful posts on specific topics of interest to self-published authors, such as:The Writing-Marketing BalanceAn Audio Book Narrators Guide for AuthorsWhats Going On With C reateSpace and KDP Print?Do You Know Where Your ISBNs Are?How to Organize Your Books Front MatterThere are also weekly This Week In The Blogs posts, which are round-up posts featuring news and advice from blogs around the web, focusing on topics relevant to indie authors, and presenting links to several useful resources all in one post. This alone makes the blog worth following for many authors, as they have the opportunity to read a variety of relevant articles from top bloggers without having to seek them out.Book designAs you would expect from a site named The Book Designer, the book design section is also full of useful advice. Some of the topics covered in this section are:110 Type Ornaments to Use in Your BookLong and Complex Books Demand Attention to DetailBook Design Pet PeevesExpert Advice for Creating Industry-Standard Print BooksLearn About the Color of Type Pages in Book DesignI found this section highly useful. If you are an author with some design skills happy to desig n your own book, or even if you are outsourcing the whole process, the information in this section will help you navigate the process. This section will help you ensure your self-published book is not let down by design mistakes that you simply wouldnt see in traditionally published books.The man behind the siteAs already mentioned, Joel Friedlander has been accumulating experience in the industry since the early 1970s. In fact, he grew up with a father who was apprenticed in the printers union straight out of high school, and learned his print skills back in the 1930s and 40s. Friedlander writes on the site about the effect that growing up in this environment, rich in the lore of printing and typography, had on him. He entered the printing industry himself, and his background in printing, typography and design has informed his own journey as a writer, author and publisher.Now he is passionate about helping other independent self-published authors create the very best product, and e xperience, they can for their readers. He is heavily focused on providing existing and potential authors with practical advice about the publishing process, stating: Writers change the world one reader at a time. But you cant change the world with a book thats still on your hard drive or in a box under your bed.The Book Designer has won several awards and accolades. It was named one of the Writers Digest 101 Best Websites For Writers (in multiple years) and also won the Alliance of Independent Authors Award for Top Website for Self-Publishers.ResourcesThere are several paid products and services for self-published authors available on the site. Firstly, they offer pre-designed book templates to enable authors to easily create beautiful books using their regular software (such as Microsoft Word or Apple Pages). The templates are built to industry-standard specifications by an award-winning book designer, and allow authors to format their books for both print and eBooks. There are dif ferent templates available for novels, literary non-fiction, and general non-fiction.The Book Designer also offers the Book Launch Toolkit, which is a package of tools, worksheets, and cheat sheets to get every aspect of your launch right, from your website and marketing materials, through to your book trailer and blog tour. There is also an interactive launch plan tool authors can use to build a 6-month customized plan, to suit their needs and objectives.There is also a bundle of Author Media Kit templates to help authors connect with journalists, bloggers, reviewers, and buyers. This package includes 15 templates, step-by-step instructions on how to create the four types of photos you need for your media kit, and an in-depth guide on exactly what your media kit is for, what goes into it, and how to use it.The Book Designer shop has a variety of other eBooks, reports and training resources for authors, including:The Self-Publishers Ultimate Resource GuideA Self-Publishers Companion Quick Easy Guide to CopyrightQuick Easy Guide to ISBNs and BarcodesQuick Easy Guide to Book Distribution DiscountsQuick Easy Guide to Print on DemandThe Self-Publishing RoadmapThere is also the free eBook already mentioned, 10 Things You Need to Know About Self-Publishing, available to download from the shop, or at the top of the home page.AwardsThe Book Designer runs monthly eBook cover design awards, and any author or cover designer can submit their cover for consideration. Monthly awards are given out for both fiction and non-fiction covers. The winning books are featured on the site, along with other entries, all with a short (often just one-line) critique or comment from Joel Friedlander. Note that not all eBook cover entries get a critique or comment, as sometimes, this is just not feasible for the sites editors.Other useful pagesOne very useful page on the site is the Book Awards for Self-Published Authors page, which provides a long list of book awards that accept self- published authors for consideration, along with links to the details of each award. This is a useful resource for authors who wish to submit their book for awards as part of their marketing and awareness campaigns.Another useful page is the Book Sizes page, listing traditional trim sizes for print books, and also listing the sizes available at all major print-on-demand companies that a self-published author might consider using. This page also covers some information on topics like offset printing and paper colors.Depending on where you are in your publishing journey, and what your budget is, one last page you might like to check out is the consulting page. This is where you can book a consultation with The Book Designer himself, Joel Friedlander, to discuss your book, ask specific questions, and get tailored advice, including a cost estimate of your book production. This will be in the form of a phone conversation, and you get a recording of the conversation to review at your leisu re.The Book Designer provides an excellent set of free and paid resources, all in one place, from an experienced, enthusiastic, and successful industry professional.

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International Covenant On Civil And Political Rights

Ellie Smith Final Exam Question December 16, 2015 Issue 1. After recognizing the seriousness and significance of Biff’s plea for help, it can be determined that human rights violations occurred in the case of Biff and the rest of the elves at the factory in the North Pole. In his letter, Biff describes being forced into labor, receiving little pay, and being confined to the factory each day. The conditions described by Biff do not reflect standard or acceptable labor practices, and it is evident that Santa Claus’s factory did not follow peremptory norms or the conditions presented in certain human rights conventions that the North Pole is a party to. Article 8 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) states†¦show more content†¦Article 24 states that â€Å"everyone has the right to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay.† The elves are allegedly given no holidays or leisure time. If the sweatshop is state-owned, then it is absolutely in violation of the human rights described previously. However, even if it is privately owned, the toy factory business needs to adhere to the principles laid out in the ICCPR and the UDHR. The obligations of private business to respect these treaties is customary international law, but also implied in the preamble of both treaties. The preamble to the ICCPR states that the basis for the treaty is â€Å"recognition of the inherent dignity and the equal and unalienable rights of all members of the human family.† The preamble of the UDHR makes the implied obligation more clear, stating â€Å"every individual and every organ of society† must observe human rights. Private businesses should not be considered as an exception to these treaties. Issue 2. Working within the United Nations system, it would be in Biff’s best interest to bring his case to the attention of a United Nations committee. The most appropriate committees to deal with

Chapter 30 The Pensieve Free Essays

string(50) " the strange substance into which he was staring\." The door of the office opened. â€Å"Hello, Potter,† said Moody. â€Å"Come in, then. We will write a custom essay sample on Chapter 30 The Pensieve or any similar topic only for you Order Now † Harry walked inside. He had been inside Dumbledore’s office once before; it was a very beautiful, circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently. Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore’s desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat. â€Å"Harry!† said Fudge jovially, moving forward. â€Å"How are you?† â€Å"Fine,† Harry lied. â€Å"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds,† said Fudge. â€Å"It was you who found him, was it not?† â€Å"Yes,† said Harry. Then, feeling it was pointless to pretend that he hadn’t overheard what they had been saying, he added, â€Å"I didn’t see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she’d have a job hiding, wouldn’t she?† Dumbledore smiled at Harry behind Fudge’s back, his eyes twinkling. â€Å"Yes, well,† said Fudge, looking embarrassed, â€Å"we’re about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, if you’ll excuse us†¦perhaps if you just go back to your class -â€Å" â€Å"I wanted to talk to you. Professor,† Harry said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look. â€Å"Wait here for me, Harry,† he said. â€Å"Our examination of the grounds will not take long.† They trooped out in silence past him and closed the door. After a minute or so, Harry heard the clunks of Moody’s wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below. He looked around. â€Å"Hello, Fawkes,† he said. Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore’s phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door. The size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage, he swished his long tail and blinked benignly at Harry. Harry sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. For several minutes, he sat and watched the old headmasters and headmistresses snoozing in their frames, thinking about what he had just heard, and running his fingers over his scar. It had stopped hurting now. He felt much calmer, somehow, now that he was in Dumbledore’s office, knowing he would shortly be telling him about the dream. Harry looked up at the walls behind the desk. The patched and ragged Sorting Hat was standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which Harry recognized as the one he himself had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in his second year. The sword had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Harry’s House. He was gazing at it, remembering how it had come to his aid when he had thought all hope was lost, when he noticed a patch of silvery light, dancing and shimmering on the glass case. He looked around for the source of the light and saw a sliver of silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind him, whose door had not been closed properly. Harry hesitated, glanced at Fawkes, then got up, walked across the office, and pulled open the cabinet door. A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin’s contents, which were like nothing Harry had ever seen before. He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid – or like wind made solid – Harry couldn’t make up his mind. He wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years’ experience of the magical world told him that sticking his hand into a bowl full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do. He therefore pulled his wand out of the inside of his robes, cast a nervous look around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, and prodded them. The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast. Harry bent closer, his head right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. He looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin – and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which he seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling. The room was dimly lit; he thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Lowering his face so that his nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance, Harry saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Harry an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it. Where was this place? It surely wasn’t Hogwarts; he had never seen a room like that here in the castle. Moreover, the crowd in the mysterious room at the bottom of the basin was comprised of adults, and Harry knew there were not nearly that many teachers at Hogwarts. They seemed, he thought, to be waiting for something; even though he could only see the tops of their hats, all of their faces seemed to be pointing in one direction, and none of them were talking to one another. The basin being circular, and the room he was observing square, Harry could not make out what was going on in the corners of it. He leaned even closer, tilting his head, trying to see†¦ The tip of his nose touched the strange substance into which he was staring. You read "Chapter 30 The Pensieve" in category "Essay examples" Dumbledore’s office gave an almighty lurch – Harry was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin – But his head did not hit the stone bottom. He was falling through something icy-cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool – And suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. He looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which he had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone. Breathing hard and fast. Harry looked around him. Not one of the witches and wizards in the room (and there were at least two hundred of them) was looking at him. Not one of them seemed to have noticed that a fourteen-year-old boy had just dropped from the ceiling into their midst. Harry turned to the wizard next to him on the bench and uttered a loud cry of surprise that reverberated around the silent room. He was sitting right next to Albus Dumbledore. â€Å"Professor!† Harry said in a kind of strangled whisper. â€Å"I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to – I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet – I – where are we?† But Dumbledore didn’t move or speak. He ignored Harry completely. Like every other wizard on the benches, he was staring into the far corner of the room, where there was a door. Harry gazed, nonplussed, at Dumbledore, then around at the silently watchful crowd, then back at Dumbledore. And then it dawned on him†¦. Once before. Harry had found himself somewhere that nobody could see or hear him. That time, he had fallen through a page in an enchanted diary, right into somebody else’s memory†¦and unless he was very much mistaken, something of the sort had happened again†¦ Harry raised his right hand, hesitated, and then waved it energetically in from of Dumbledore’s face. Dumbledore did not blink, look around at Harry, or indeed move at all. And that, in Harry’s opinion, settled the matter. Dumbledore wouldn’t ignore him like that. He was inside a memory, and this was not the present-day Dumbledore. Yet it couldn’t be that long ago†¦the Dumbledore sitting next to him now was silver-haired, just like the present-day Dumbledore. But what was this place? What were all these wizards waiting for? Harry looked around more carefully. The room, as he had suspected when observing it from above, was almost certainly underground – more of a dungeon than a room, he thought. There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; just these serried rows of benches, rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of that chair with the chains on its arms. Before Harry could reach any conclusions about the place in which they were, he heard footsteps. The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and three people entered – or at least one man, flanked by two dementors. Harry’s insides went cold. The dementors – tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed – were gliding slowly toward the chair in the center of the room, each grasping one of the man’s arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and Harry couldn’t blame him†¦he knew the dementors could not touch him inside a memory, but he remembered their power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them. Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff. Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Harry watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff’s arms, binding him there. â€Å"Igor Karkaroff,† said a curt voice to Harry’s left. Harry looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch’s hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. â€Å"You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us.† Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair. â€Å"I have, sir,† he said, and although his voice was very scared, Harry could still hear the familiar unctuous note in it. â€Å"I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I – I know that the Ministry is trying to – to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can†¦.† There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Harry heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledores other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, â€Å"Filth.† Harry leaned forward so that he could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there – except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike. â€Å"Crouch is going to let him out,† Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. â€Å"He’s done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he’s got enough new names. Let’s hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors.† Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose. â€Å"Ah, I was forgetting†¦you don’t like the dementors, do you, Albus?† said Moody with a sardonic smile. â€Å"No,† said Dumbledore calmly, â€Å"I’m afraid I don’t. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures.† â€Å"But for filth like this†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Moody said softly. â€Å"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff,† said Mr. Crouch. â€Å"Let us hear them, please.† â€Å"You must understand,† said Karkaroff hurriedly, â€Å"that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy†¦.He preferred that we – I mean to say, his supporters – and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them -â€Å" â€Å"Get on with it,† sneered Moody. â€Å"- we never knew the names of every one of our fellows – He alone knew exactly who we all were -â€Å" â€Å"Which was a wise move, wasn’t it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in,† muttered Moody. â€Å"Yet you say you have some names for us?† said Mr. Crouch. â€Å"I – I do,† said Karkaroff breathlessly. â€Å"And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely -â€Å" â€Å"These names are?† said Mr. Crouch sharply. Karkaroff drew a deep breath. â€Å"There was Antonin Dolohov,† he said. â€Å"I – I saw him torture countless Muggles and – and non-supporters of the Dark Lord.† â€Å"And helped him do it,† murmured Moody. â€Å"We have already apprehended Dolohov,† said Crouch. â€Å"He was caught shortly after yourself.† â€Å"Indeed?† said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. â€Å"I – I am delighted to hear it!† But he didn’t look it. Harry could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless. â€Å"Any others?† said Crouch coldly. â€Å"Why, yes†¦there was Rosier,† said Karkaroff hurriedly. â€Å"Evan Rosier.† â€Å"Rosier is dead,† said Crouch. â€Å"He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle.† â€Å"Took a bit of me with him, though,† whispered Moody to Harry’s right. Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore. â€Å"No – no more than Rosier deserved!† said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now. Harry could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff’s eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting. â€Å"Any more?† said Crouch. â€Å"Yes!† said Karkaroff. â€Å"There was Travers – he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber – he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!† Harry could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together. â€Å"Rookwood?† said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. â€Å"Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?† â€Å"The very same,† said Karkaroff eagerly. â€Å"I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information -â€Å" â€Å"But Travers and Mulciber we have,† said Mr. Crouch. â€Å"Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide -â€Å" â€Å"Not yet!† cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. â€Å"Wait, I have more!† Harry could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard. â€Å"Snape!† he shouted. â€Å"Severus Snape!† â€Å"Snape has been cleared by this council,† said Crouch disdainfully. â€Å"He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore.† â€Å"No!† shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. â€Å"I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!† Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. â€Å"I have given evidence already on this matter,† he said calmly. â€Å"Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort’s downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am.† Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind Dumbledore’s back. â€Å"Very well, Karkaroff,† Crouch said coldly, â€Å"you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime†¦.† Mr. Crouch’s voice faded. Harry looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; he could see only his own body – all else was swirling darkness†¦. And then, the dungeon returned. Harry was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Harry noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter. Harry looked around; Dumbledore was sitting beside him again, wearing different robes. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter†¦.Harry understood. It was a different memory, a different day†¦a different trial. The door in the corner opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room. This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn’t broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile. â€Å"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters,† said Mr. Crouch. â€Å"We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?† Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater? â€Å"Only,† said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, â€Å"well – I know I’ve been a bit of an idiot -â€Å" One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently. Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike. â€Å"You never spoke a truer word, boy,† someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Harry. He looked around and saw Moody sitting there again. â€Å"If I didn’t know he’d always been dim, I’d have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain†¦.† â€Å"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters,† said Mr. Crouch. â€Å"For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -â€Å" But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch. â€Å"But I’ve told you, I had no idea!† Bagman called earnestly over the crowd’s babble, his round blue eyes widening. â€Å"None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad’s†¦never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on†¦once my Quidditch days are over, you know†¦I mean, I can’t keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?† There were titters from the crowd. â€Å"It will be put to the vote,† said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. â€Å"The jury will please raise their hands†¦those in favor of imprisonment†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up. â€Å"Yes?† barked Crouch. â€Å"We’d just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday,† the witch said breathlessly. Mr. Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming. â€Å"Despicable,† Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. â€Å"Rookwood get him a job indeed†¦.The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry†¦.† And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, Harry looked around. He and Dumbledore were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands. Harry looked up at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and grayer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple. â€Å"Bring them in,† he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon. The door in the corner opened yet again. Six dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. Harry saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another. The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief. Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face. â€Å"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law,† he said clearly, â€Å"so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous -â€Å" â€Å"Father,† said the boy with the straw-colored hair. â€Å"Father†¦please†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"- that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court,† said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son’s voice. â€Å"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror – Frank Longbottom – and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -â€Å" â€Å"Father, I didn’t!† shrieked the boy in chains below. â€Å"I didn’t, I swear it. Father, don’t send me back to the dementors -â€Å" â€Å"You are further accused,† bellowed Mr. Crouch, â€Å"of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom’s wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury -â€Å" â€Å"Mother!† screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. â€Å"Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me!† â€Å"I now ask the jury,† shouted Mr. Crouch, â€Å"to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!† In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream. â€Å"No! Mother, no! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know! Don’t send me there, don’t let him!† The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys’ three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, â€Å"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!† But the boy was trying to fight off the dementors, even though Harry could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle. â€Å"I’m your son!† he screamed up at Crouch. â€Å"I’m your son!† â€Å"You are no son of mine!† bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. â€Å"I have no son!† The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed. â€Å"Take them away!† Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. â€Å"Take them away, and may they rot there!† â€Å"Father! Father, I wasn’t involved! No! No! Father, please!† â€Å"I think. Harry, it is time to return to my office,† said a quiet voice in Harry’s ear. Harry started. He looked around. Then he looked on his other side. There was an Albus Dumbledore sitting on his right, watching Crouch’s son being dragged away by the dementors – and there was an Albus Dumbledore on his left, looking right at him. â€Å"Come,† said the Dumbledore on his left, and he put his hand under Harry’s elbow. Harry felt himself rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around him; for a moment, all was blackness, and then he felt as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore’s sunlit office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of him, and Albus Dumbledore was standing beside him. â€Å"Professor,† Harry gasped, â€Å"I know I shouldn’t’ve – I didn’t mean – the cabinet door was sort of open and -â€Å" â€Å"I quite understand,† said Dumbledore. He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him. Harry did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze. â€Å"What is it?† Harry asked shakily. â€Å"This? It is called a Pensieve,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.† â€Å"Er,† said Harry, who couldn’t truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort. â€Å"At these times,† said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, â€Å"I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one’s mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one’s leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form.† â€Å"You mean†¦that stuff’s your thoughts?† Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin. â€Å"Certainly,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"Let me show you.† Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it – but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Harry, astonished, saw his own face swimming around the surface of the bowl. Dumbledore placed his long hands on either side of the Pensieve and swirled it, rather as a gold prospector would pan for fragments of gold†¦.and Harry saw his own face change smoothly into Snape’s, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly. â€Å"It’s coming back†¦Karkaroff’s too†¦stronger and clearer than ever†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"A connection I could have made without assistance,† Dumbledore sighed, â€Å"but never mind.† He peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry, who was gaping at Snape’s face, which was continuing to swirl around the bowl. â€Å"I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention.† â€Å"I’m sorry,† Harry mumbled. Dumbledore shook his head. â€Å"Curiosity is not a sin,† he said. â€Å"But we should exercise caution with our curiosity†¦yes, indeed†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Harry or Professor Dumbledore. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape’s had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin. â€Å"He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I’d seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday†¦.† â€Å"But why. Bertha,† said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, â€Å"why did you have to follow him in the first place?† â€Å"Bertha?† Harry whispered, looking up at her. â€Å"Is that – was that Bertha Jorkins?† â€Å"Yes,† said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. â€Å"That was Bertha as I remember her at school.† The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore’s face, and it struck Harry suddenly how very old he was looking. He knew, of course, that Dumbledore was getting on in years, but somehow he never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man. â€Å"So, Harry,† said Dumbledore quietly. â€Å"Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something.† â€Å"Yes,† said Harry. â€Å"Professor – I was in Divination just now, and – er – I fell asleep.† He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said, â€Å"Quite understandable. Continue.† â€Å"Well, I had a dream,† said Harry. â€Å"A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail†¦you know who Wormtail-â€Å" â€Å"I do know,† said Dumbledore promptly. â€Å"Please continue.† â€Å"Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail’s blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn’t be fed to the snake – there was a snake beside his chair. He said – he said he’d be feeding me to it, instead. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail – and my scar hurt,† Harry said. â€Å"It woke me up, it hurt so badly.† Dumbledore merely looked at him. â€Å"Er – that’s all,† said Harry. â€Å"I see,† said Dumbledore quietly. â€Å"I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?† â€Å"No, I – how did you know it woke me up over the summer?† said Harry, astonished. â€Å"You are not Sirius’s only correspondent,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay.† Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Harry couldn’t make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of color. â€Å"Professor?† he said quietly, after a couple of minutes. Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Harry. â€Å"My apologies,† he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk. â€Å"D’you – d’you know why my scar’s hurting me?† Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, â€Å"I have a theory, no more than that†¦.It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred.† â€Å"But†¦why?† â€Å"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"That is no ordinary scar.† â€Å"So you think†¦that dream†¦did it really happen?† â€Å"It is possible,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"I would say – probable. Harry – did you see Voldemort?† â€Å"No,† said Harry. â€Å"Just the back of his chair. But – there wouldn’t have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn’t got a body, has he? But†¦but then how could he have held the wand?† Harry said slowly. â€Å"How indeed?† muttered Dumbledore. â€Å"How indeed†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve. â€Å"Professor,† Harry said at last, â€Å"do you think he’s getting stronger?† â€Å"Voldemort?† said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given him on other occasions, and always made Harry feel as though Dumbledore were seeing right through him in a way that even Moody’s magical eye could not. â€Å"Once again. Harry, I can only give you my suspicions.† Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever. â€Å"The years of Voldemort’s ascent to power,† he said, â€Å"were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared†¦within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort’s father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends.† Dumbledore looked very seriously at Harry. â€Å"These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees – as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office.† Harry nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. Harry felt as though he ought to go, but his curiosity held him in his chair. â€Å"Professor?† he said again. â€Å"Yes, Harry?† said Dumbledore. â€Å"Er†¦could I ask you about†¦that court thing I was in†¦in the Pensieve?† â€Å"You could,† said Dumbledore heavily. â€Å"I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others†¦particularly now†¦.† â€Å"You know – you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch’s son? Well†¦.were they talking about Neville’s parents?† Dumbledore gave Harry a very sharp look. † Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?† he said. Harry shook his head, wondering, as he did so, how he could have failed to ask Neville this, in almost four years of knowing him. â€Å"Yes, they were talking about Neville’s parents,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Professor Moody. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort’s whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard.† â€Å"So they’re dead?† said Harry quietly. â€Å"No,† said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness Harry had never heard there before. â€Å"They are insane. They are both in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him.† Harry sat there, horror-struck. He had never known†¦never, in four years, bothered to find out†¦ â€Å"The Longbottoms were very popular,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"The attacks on them came after Voldemort’s fall from power, just when everyone thought they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms’ evidence was – given their condition – none too reliable.† â€Å"Then Mr. Crouch’s son might not have been involved?† said Harry slowly. Dumbledore shook his head. â€Å"As to that, I have no idea.† Harry sat in silence once more, watching the contents of the Pensieve swirl. There were two more questions he was burning to ask†¦but they concerned the guilt of living people†¦. â€Å"Er,† he said, â€Å"Mr. Bagman†¦.† â€Å"†¦has never been accused of any Dark activity since,† said Dumbledore calmly. â€Å"Right,† said Harry hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts. â€Å"And†¦er†¦Ã¢â‚¬  But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him. Snape’s face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Harry. â€Å"No more has Professor Snape,† he said. Harry looked into Dumbledore’s light blue eyes, and the thing he really wanted to know spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it. â€Å"What made you think he’d really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?† Dumbledore held Harry’s gaze for a few seconds, and then said, â€Å"That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself.† Harry knew that the interview was over; Dumbledore did not look angry, yet there was a finality in his tone that told Harry it was time to go. He stood up, and so did Dumbledore. â€Å"Harry,† he said as Harry reached the door. â€Å"Please do not speak about Neville’s parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready.† â€Å"Yes, Professor,† said Harry, turning to go. â€Å"And-â€Å" Harry looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then said, â€Å"Good luck with the third task.† How to cite Chapter 30 The Pensieve, Essay examples

Self discovery and makes the decision Essay Example

Self discovery and makes the decision Paper Arthur Millers play The Crucible was based upon the 1950s McArthur trials. Miller was called before the House of Un-American Activities Committee in 1956 and refused to testify against his friends and associates (similar to the decision made by his main character and protagonist, John Proctor). He was then charged with contempt, but the conviction was later overruled with an appeal.  The play explores the challenge in society to stand up for what you believe in and doing good in the face of evil. Salem must have seemed a very strong basis of which to develop his play and ideas. Miller travelled to Salem and heavily researched the Puritan society existing in the 17th century. In this essay I am going to explain how John Proctor goes through a journey of self discovery and makes the decision that his pride and principles are worth dying for, which is why Miller has written the play.  In the first scene involving John Proctor, his sordid affair with Abigail Williams is exposed.  Although honest and a good man, John is very passionate which lands him in a lot of trouble. After a lot of guilt and a heavy concience he decides to end the affair with Abby. Once he is on his own with her, he declares, Abby, I may think of you softly from time to time. But I will cut off my hand before Ill ever reach for you again. Wipe it out of mind. We never touched, Abby. This powerful use of imagery works to add meaning to what he is saying. This is obviously hard for a man of Johns nature to come to terms with he knows he has let down his wife Elizabeth but is trying to redeem himself by ending any ties to this woman. It is this conflict which serves as one of the devices by which Miller takes his main character on a journey of self-discovery. We will write a custom essay sample on Self discovery and makes the decision specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now We will write a custom essay sample on Self discovery and makes the decision specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer We will write a custom essay sample on Self discovery and makes the decision specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer Miller has created a simple plot where Reverend Hale is invited to Salem after no cure can be found for Reverend Parriss daughter, Betty, who after found dancing and singing in the forest with other girls in the village, had developed a strange illness. In a Puritan society such as Salem at that time, singing and dancing were strictly prohibited. The inhabitants of Salem begin to think Betty is possessed. After Hales arrival, the girls involved are questioned. Abigail (the ringleader of the group) begins calling out names of respectable members of the society, claiming she has seen them with the Devil. Betty joins in. Sarah Good and Goody Osburn are the first citizens to be accused of witchcraft. Proctor know that Abigail can manipulate people and she that shes feared by many of the girls. However, by ending the affair with Abigail earlier on in the play, it shows that John has great strength of character and has taken the first step to turn his life around and leads on to a journey of self discovery. John tries to make amends with Elizabeth by exclaiming On Sunday let you come with me and well walk the farm together. I never see such a load of flowers on the earth. This clearly shows his love for his wife as well as his genuine remorse for his liaison with Abigail. This mirrors towards the ending because Proctor turns to Elizabeth, and asks her if he should confess; her opinion obviously means a lot to him and hes asking her out of love. Referring back to the question, Proctors decision to die for his pride and principles are greatly affected by what Elizabeth told him to do. Elizabeth said that she could not judge him. Proctors principles and journey of self discovery are centered around his love for Elizabeth. Elizabeth explains to John that many people have been arrested and accused of witchcraft and a court has been set up to try them with the penalty of death. Abigail accuses Proctors wife, Elizabeth, of witchcraft. After Elizabeth is taken away, John tries to clear her good name. Ill not give my wife to vengeance. This quote shows Johns willingness to stand up for what he believes in, and his love for Elizabeth, because he believes his wife is good and pure and wont hesitate to stand up for her.  Elizabeth begs her husband to speak out and tell the court what kind of person Abigail really is. However it takes her arrest before he will do this. Proctor states I had not reckoned with goin into court. But if I must I will.