The Anxiety of Sequence Much of what's taught under the name of expository writing could be called "The Anxiety of Sequence." Its premise is this: To get where you're going, you have to begin in just the right place And take the proper path, Which depends on knowing where you plan to conclude. Verlyn Klinkenborg, Several Short Sentences About Writing The Age of the Essay essays
Every Website is an Essay An Article by Robin Rendle css-tricks.com "Every website that’s made me oooo and aaahhh lately has been of a special kind; they’re written and designed like essays. There’s an argument, a playfulness in the way that they’re not so much selling me something as they are trying to convince me of the thing. They use words and type and color in a way that makes me sit up and listen. And I think that framing our work in this way lets us web designers explore exciting new possibilities. Instead of throwing a big carousel on the page and being done with it, thinking about making a website like an essay encourages us to focus on the tough questions. We need an introduction, we need to provide evidence for our statements, we need a conclusion, etc. This way we don’t have to get so caught up in the same old patterns that we’ve tried again and again in our work. And by treating web design like an essay, we can be weird with the design. We can establish a distinct voice and make it sound like an honest-to-goodness human being wrote it, too." writingwwwessays
1984 A Novel by George Orwell Into the dampness of a graveReality exists in the mindPerhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.We shall meet in the place where there is no darknessNothing was your own
Into the dampness of a grave He had the sensation of stepping into the dampness of a grave, and it was not much better because he had always known that the grave was there and waiting for him. death
Reality exists in the mind But I tell you, Winston, that reality is not external. Reality exists in the human mind, and nowhere else. realitymind
Nothing was your own Always the eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, working or eating, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or in bed—no escape. Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetres inside your skull. surveillanceownership