The Choice

           I fidgeted with my pen while haziness overwhelmed my mind. I knew that I have to
make this decision quickly as it would involve innocent students to be punished for the crime
that they didn’t commit. I wanted to turn a blind eye to what has happened but my conscience
wouldn’t let me. In fact, the guilt has been eating me up, making me feel like an empty
person inside.
            My mind travelled back to the event that occurred two days ago. I have been dreading
going to Year 11 Alpha to conduct Biology lessons. Out of the 32 students in the class, only
two or three students actually paid attention and perhaps, also a little respect. Others would
simply ignore me, make inappropriate comments when I teach and turn me into an object of
laughter.
    
            I wrote my resignation letter many times, only to crumble the paper and threw it away
in the wastepaper bin. Most teachers in the nation would die for this job, a well-paid job at a
prestigious international school. Coming from a small town, my parents were extremely
proud of me when I got accepted and they had very high hopes for me. They would proudly
show off to our fellow neighbours and relatives that their only daughter has become a teacher
at a famous international school. Besides that, being the sole breadwinner of my family also
make this decision almost impossible. 
              On that eventful day, I gripped the sides of the Biology notes tightly. I felt as if I
could not take the torture anymore, at least not for today. I spent the previous night crying
while dwelling coming to class and didn’t quite have the courage to face them today. I could
end up bursting into tears with a single trigger and end up being mocked and laughed at
again. In a haste, I dropped the Biology notes into the bin, went to a nearby fire alarm and
smashed the glass.
                The headmaster was outraged by the false alarm. At the assembly, he gave a stern
warning to the students, believing it was a mischievous act, or a dare by the students. The
deadline was today and if no one owns up by 12pm, the headmaster will make all the students
run around the field for three hours, under the blazing heat. I wanted to just let it be, thinking
it would be a good punishment for the students that disrespect me yet at the same time, I felt
guilty that innocent students would be affected as well.  
                 My hands started to tremble while I turned the door knob of the headmaster’s
office. My heart was pounding loudly. It was time to face the music. 
         
Narrative Essay Sample: The Coming Storm
Meaning of words:
1. Shrouded: cover or envelop so as to conceal from view. "mountains shrouded by
cloud"
2. Jagged: with rough, sharp points protruding. "the jagged edges gashed their fingers"
3. Treacherous: (of ground, water, conditions, etc.) presenting hidden or unpredictable
dangers.
"a holidaymaker was swept away by treacherous currents"

4. Sheen: shine or cause to shine softly. "men entered with rain sheening their steel
helms"
Write a story or episode of suspense, in which a character enters a room and
finds that it has been disturbed and may even still be occupied by the
intruder.

The train had come in late that night. The moon shone up high in the clouds by the time he
reached the door. It was unlocked. Taking in deep breaths at a very slow pace he tried to
breathe out the sudden smoke of worry inside him.
There is nothing to worry about, he tells himself. He manages to convince himself that he
forgot to lock it that morning, and steps inside the room. He had left the curtains open when
he exited the room several hours ago, and it was still like that, just as he had left it. But the
room wasn’t. Everything, from the kitchen cabinet to his desk drawers, were turned inside
out. Paper covered the floor like dead flowers, its petals torn off by the soles of people’s
shoes. Pens and cutlery reflected cold light from the moon. Nothing moved.
In contrast to the deafening silence, his whole body was suddenly swallowed by panic. He
couldn’t move. Vines of fear shot out from the floor and caught his legs, and for extra
security his feet were stuck to the ground with thorns of terror. His mind flew all over the
place like a group of butterflies, trying to escape a child’s net. An instant later his mind
ceased to flee and instead fell limp inside his head, just like the mess of papers in front of his
eyes. In time, the thick fog that clouded his eyes drifted away. Panic had finally let go of its
long talons around his neck. Breathing became more slow, more deep.

He tried to turn around to a corner of the ceiling, where he had set up a video camera the
week before, as the whole town was in fear of a burglar. His mind settled down enough for
him to think it was that burglar on the loose, that came in to his room.

He heard glass shatter from the kitchen. He tries to cheat himself into thinking that the glass
– probably a wine glass – fell of natural causes. An accident. But he fails, and in return he
feels something spread inside him like black ink staining a piece of paper – long, black arms
reaching to every corner of his body, a disease sinking deep inside and multiplying itself. He
feels as if his heart, though he could feel its pounding noise echoing in his head is failing to
circulate the blood around. His hands are frozen in its shape and is cold as ice, but his head
is rushing with blood. He doesn’t want to move. But he knows he has to act, or nothing will
be done.
Dragging his limp legs towards the corner of the room, he reaches up, and with stiff
trembling hands, takes the video camera off the top of the closet. His mind is drowning deep
inside a whirlpool of anxiety, but something forces himself to turn on the power as the tape
starts to rewind. Ice cold finger lingers above the start button. He takes one last deep breath
to get the last drift of smoke out of his head. Even if the burglar was still here, he can’t do
anything about it.
He lowers his finger.
The little screen shows his room, around midday, with everything in its right position. There
is a little noise of the door being unlocked. A figure steps in, and starts to terrorise the room.
Watching the video, he is unnaturally calm, as if his panic awhile ago was a dream. The
figure in the screen stops in the middle of the room. He sees the intruder turning its head
towards the camera inside the square of the screen.
He sees himself.

The Ripper
Dark clouds obscured the butter-waxed moon and its twinkling stars; an ominous shadow had
cast itself over the quiet streets. I hurried my footsteps and stepped into the house, relishing
the warmth of the fireplace. I heard a satisfying slam as the door shut behind me, shattering
the silence on the street. I entered the lounge and gasped as the smell of fresh blood rushed
into my nostrils.  I quickly fought back the nausea that was rushing up from my gut and
steadied myself. I slowly counted in my head from one to ten and took a second look.
Unfortunately, this time the vomit won and everything came out like a fountain and splashed
onto the blood soaked floor.

Tears were pouring down my eyes. When I finally stopped, my throat felt terribly dry and
raw. Sweating and still feeling nauseous, realisation suddenly dawned upon me. It was April
fool’s Day! Everything seemed clear to me now. How could I even fall for this sick joke!
Mike would never let me off the hook for this. He’s going to tell stories of how I have fallen
so badly for his prank until the day I step into my grave. 

“Very funny Mike, Ha! Ha! Ha!” I said sarcastically. It was not that hard for Mike, my ex-
boyfriend to pull off such a realistic prank since he was a stage director and had all sorts of
props to make his work look as realistic as he could. I looked at the first ‘butchered victim’
lying on the floor and cringed, feeling disgusted. Although I was sure that it was fake, it just
seemed so real.

“All these do look really realistic, I’ll give you that. Besides, the stench is just amazing, that’s
what made me ‘redecorate’ my floor. By the way, you can clean up this whole mess that you
have made, thank you. All this fake blood on the floor would require some serious scrubbing,
so you better come out and get to work!” 

 Silence… 

“Mike I know you’re there, you’re the one who made a fool of yourself. I would’ve
reconsidered getting back with you actually, but no way in hell after this!”

I knew Mike was hiding somewhere in my house, enjoying the show. I was sure that he
enjoyed my initial reaction and I suddenly felt a surge of anger course through my veins. 
“Think this is funny huh? I’ll show you what’s funny!”

 Annoyed and irritated, I slapped the dummy that was the closest to me and leapt back
instantly. No one could fake the feel of dead flesh and I was sure I had just slapped a dead
body. The atmosphere around me suddenly started to feel really cold and I gagged again, but
no vomit came out this time. I guess my stomach had been emptied after the first two times I
threw up.

In policewoman mode at once, I quickly reached for the nearest weapon- an umbrella and
carefully checked each room in my house. There was no one else in the house except me and
the three dead bodies in my lounge. I knew this wasn’t any normal case of murder, this was
the work of a professional serial killer, but why did the killer choose my house as his stage
for all these brutal murders? There must have been a reason as to why these poor women
were killed in my house, but what was it? I actually wished that Mike was by my side right
now. It would’ve been so much better to have his reassuring bulk beside me.
I decided to worry about that later and examined the dead bodies. 

After a closer look, I realised all four of the victims were women. The first woman had her
throat slit and her teeth were missing. The killer didn’t stop at her face though. He had
stabbed her stomach multiple times and pulled out her intestines. Both of her feet were badly
severed too and it would have come apart from her leg if it was given a slight tug. The second
woman wasn’t mutilated at all, apart from the only obvious reason of death, the slit throat and
some bruises on her face. I took note of that, and true enough the last victim had the same
trademark of the serial killer: the sliced, open throat. However, this victim made up for the
lack of goriness of the previous dead bodies. The last victim’s injuries were so gruesome I
could hardly look at her for five seconds. I could barely make out that the victim was even a
woman since her face had been viciously hacked and mutilated. Judging from the cuts and
bruises on the woman’s hands, she did not go down without a fight and that explained why
the killer decided to ‘punish’ her by opening her body up from her abdomen all the way to
her neck. Her two kidneys, stomach and intestines had all spilled out on the floor but her
heart was nowhere to be found. I wouldn’t want to find out where that maniac hid it.
I took out my mobile phone and was about to call the headquarters for backup when
suddenly, a noise was heard. Footsteps… and then there was the sound of heavy breathing... 
A cold chill trickled down my spine as I stayed rooted to the ground, realising that I wasn’t
alone in my house. 

“Diana.” 

The raspy and sinister voice echoed all over my house. My hair stood on end as I trembled in
fear, waiting for the next move of the killer. 

“Saucy Jack is going to rip you to pieces.” 

My blood felt as cold as ice hearing his whisper again and I stood there, paralysed by fear as
realisation flooded over me. Just two days ago, I received a report saying that two women had
been brutally murdered in a parking lot. The killer had apparently ‘signed off’ on his victims
with the trademark wounds Jack the Ripper would have made. I remember how I laughed at
the report thinking how creative people could get to prank the police. I guess I wasn’t
laughing so hard now.

“Oh Diana, oh Diana, you’re dead meat!”

 “Y-You… H-How did you… W-What are you doing in my house?” I barely managed.

“Oh, how naïve my dear child. The Morrow bloodline has a history with the Ripper, don’t
you know? I’m just back to settle some unfinished business.”

“W-What do you want with me?” I stammered, looking around intently for the ‘Thing’.

“Oh I don’t know, probably to rip your limbs apart and play hide-and-seek with your
intestines?” 

“But, you’re dead. There’s no way you can hurt me now.” I tried to sound as confident as
possible but my voice gave out only a squeak.

“No one ever found out who the Ripper was. Who’s to say he’s dead already?”

“N-N-No way, the Ripper’s dead, and you’re nothing but a filthy maniac, preying on
vulnerable, helpless women! I don’t care what history you have with my family, but I am
going to end this right now, this madness ends here!”

The television behind me exploded, showering sharp fragments of glass all over me, leaving
small cuts on my arms and exposed neck. I supposed I must have hit a raw nerve with him
because the lights in my lounge started flickering as well. “You shall pay for insulting me,
you whore!” A dark figure started to materialise from a slow, spiralling dark smoke in the
middle of the lounge and the wheels in my brains started spinning. So I was right, he actually
was dead, and must have come back in some spirit or devil form to ‘finish what he started’.
Whatever that meant.  The figure was almost fully formed now and I could see a vague
silhouette of a butcher’s knife glinting in the hands of the figure. I knew I had to act fast or I
would not live to see tomorrow.

It must have been the adrenalin pumping in my blood because my brain suddenly clicked into
my only hope for safety- Mike, or rather I remembered the bottle of holy water Mike and I
got on our getaway trip to Rome last month. Before I knew it, I was already rushing for the
stairs, taking three steps at a time as I rushed towards my bedroom. By this time, I heard
footsteps thudding on the stairs heavily and I knew that I had to find the bottle quickly before
the killer caught up to me. I cursed myself for my perennial untidiness and now, finding such
a tiny bottle of holy water would be like finding a needle in a haystack. I flipped my bed
around and pulled drawers out of their shafts and I have to admit, I was lucky spotting the
tiny bottle lying on its side at the bottom of my desk. I made a dive for the bottle and
wrapped the only hope of my survival in my hand, when suddenly a hand wrapped itself
round my neck and started to choke me. My eyes flew wide open in horror and I frantically
tried with all my might to pull the hand away from me. The bottle of holy water fell out of
my hand and landed on the ground beside my feet. My attacker had a firm grip on me and
there was no way I was escaping his death trap, unless…

“You’re a quick thinker my dear girl, but not quick enough for Jacky boy. Now I shall gut
you up, just like I did for all your family members in the past.” the butcher knife was now
just an inch from my face; and that was when I acted. I stomped as hard as I could on the
bottle of holy water on the ground and silver droplets of hope instantly splashed on me and
my attacker. Almost instantaneously, the Ripper pushed me away from himself with such
 terrific force. I hit the wall opposite me and saw stars. Through my bleary vision, I saw the
Ripper thrash and swipe around blindly with his knife, screaming frantically as he tried to get
hold of me again. Slowly but painfully, the monster started to vaporise bit by bit. He fell to
his knees as his legs vaporised into black wisps of smoke, creating a filthy sulphuric odour in
my room. 

My vision slowly became narrower as the whole world started closing in on me. Just as I was
about to black out, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a syringe and some pills on the floor.
Looking to the mirror on my left, there stood The Ripper lying where I was, grinning
malevolently at me. I slipped off into unconsciousness staring at the reflection of myself,
realising I was the Ripper, and the Ripper was me…

English Essays-Wedding
                   Weddings are grand affairs. Normally, it only occurs once in a lifetime. It brings about a
bondage between a man and a woman. Recently I attended the wedding of my classmate’s sister. 
                  It was performed in a community center auditorium. The auditorium was converted into a
fairyland. The stage was all illuminated with different color bulbs and decorated with pots of flowers,
pots and other glittering decorations.
                    A magnificent platform was erected which held two throne – like chairs for the bride and
the bridegroom. The platform and the stage looked like the banquet hall of a five-star hotel with its
thick red carpets and floral decorations. The cool fragrance was so strong that everyone left sleepy.
There was a place by the side for music troops with their enormous music instruments. They played
loud and soft music.    
                  The wedding day was on Sunday. The guests were very well dressed, which added to the
atmosphere. The bridegroom party arrived in seven cars, they were welcomed. Dancing was also
arranged. They were pleased with the warm welcome. Two video and cameramen, photographers were
busy capturing the scenes with their equipment. 
                 The bridegroom was escorted to the throne. The bride followed in glittering red dress,
escorted by her friends. They walked in a slow and doll-like pace. After some minor ceremonies they
were officially announced as man and wife.
                The wedding was also an occasion for socializing. Many of my friends were there and we had
many happy moments. As one by one went to the stage to offer them best wishes and presents, I also
stood in line to offer them my best wishes with a present. Then I went home taking with me the
pleasant memories.

Essay 2
                    A celebration in a family gives pleasure to all the Members of the family. Friends and
relatives also attend the occasion and share the pleasure. Pleasure multiplies when there is a wedding
in the family. I drew immense pleasure when the marriage ceremony of my cousin was held. It was
performed on 23rd of the last month.
                     We had not seen any marriage celebration in our family beforehand. My cousin was the
first child to be married in the family. Her marriage was celebrated with great enthusiasm.
Preparations for the marriage started one month before the celebration. My parents and my uncle and
aunt spent a whole week making necessary purchases. The whole house was colour washed. The doors
were republished. Our house looked like a bride. Many kinds of gold ornaments were bought for my
cousin. Several clothes were also purchased for all the family members and relatives. My cousin
herself chose clothes for her. Invitation cards were printed and were sent to friends and relatives.
                        There was a great excitement and joy among us to see the preparations for the wedding
celebration in our family, Decorations were made on the day before the marriage ceremony. A shrine
was prepared for the celebration. It was also decorated with paper flowers. The canopy above the
shrine was made of coloured cloths. Another big canopy was put up in the open ground in front of our
house. An electrician with his four assistants decorated the closed space with a number of multi-
coloured electric lamps.
                      The space was meant for the marriage feast. Rows of tables were arranged on three sides.
The tables were covered with white sheets of cloth. On one side chairs were arranged for the guests.
Sweets were made and kept for the guests.
                      The feast on the date of marriage was very delicious. My parents were very busy. My aunt
and uncle were also terribly engaged in different works. Our relatives were making our house a noisy
place. The ladies were busy with religious ceremonies. Two cooks were engaged to prepare the dinner
for the guests and the bridegroom party members. Cold- drinks were ready. Large quantities of fresh
fruits were also arranged for the guests.
                        My father and uncle stood at the gate to receive the guests. The marriage party arrived at-
seven in the evening-
                        First, the guests were served sweets and cold drinks. Many guests had brought different
gifts for my cousin who was the bride. The marriage party members were very gentle. The groom was
seated on a palanquin with thick garlands around his neck.
                         The marriage ceremony was held after the reception. The priest chanted sholkas from
the Vedas. Many senior members including my parents and the parents of the groom were present at
the time of the holy marriage on the shrine. The bride and the groom exchanged garlands and sacredly
accepted each other as the partner of life.
                           We cried when my cousin parted with us and went to her new house.
                      

       Influence on Teenager (Parents)

               Being a teenager is difficult as a teenager struggles to transition from

childhood to adulthood. This is the stage of life where finding and establishing an
identity become important and is a central focus of the teenager. Therefore, they are
more susceptible towards influences from many sources. In my opinion, parents play
a greater role of influencing teenagers than their friends.
                 Firstly, teenagers live with their parents since they were born. They become
dependable and attached to their parents when they were very young and they will
continue to feel so when they are growing. Parents know teenagers better compared
to friends as they spend longer time with them. Thus, they are able to give better
opinions and advice.
                Furthermore, advice from parents has more weight than advice from friends
due to the maturity and experiences of the parents. Parents has gone through up and
downs in life and they may have already experienced what the teenager is
experiencing. Therefore, they are able to give useful advice on how to cope with
problems faced by teenagers.
               On the other hand, parents have higher capability to help teenagers
compared to their friends. If teenagers need money to pursue an ambition, parents
are more likely to provide the funding to them than their friends. If the teenager
suffers from any illness or is in need to look for a job, parents are one of the first who
are able to help them. 
                Unlike friends who are strangers at first, parents are part of the teenager’s
family. Therefore, family is the one that is willing to help and be there for teenagers
without any conditions. Family is also unlikely to betray or do anything that affects
the teenager negatively.
                 In a nutshell, parents exert more influence than friends as they are the
guardians and role models of teenagers. In the long run, friends may come and go,
but family is always there as “blood is thicker than water.”
                                        Influence on Teenagers (Friends)
               Being a teenager is difficult as it is a time of transition from childhood to
adulthood. This is the stage of life where finding and establishing an identity become
important and is a central focus of the teenager. Therefore, they are more susceptible
towards influences from many sources. In my opinion, friends play a greater role of
influencing teenagers than their parents.
               It is common that teenagers tend to see their families as controlling and
restricting their freedom. Therefore, they would try to break free and resist the
expectations set by their families as they try to establish their own identity. Instead of
looking up to their families, most teenagers often look up to their peers because they
have the need of feeling belonged and accepted in their circle of friends.
               Moreover, parents may find difficulty in accepting that their teenagers are no
longer children and they may use the same approach to communicate with them. The
differences in communication may cause their relationship to be strained. Thus,
teenagers find more comfort in confiding in their friends as they may find their
friends more understanding and accepting of who they are.
                In addition to that, teenagers spend more hours in school, tuition and other
educational classes than at home. Hence, we can say that teenagers actually spend
more time with their friends than their families. The prolonged time spent with
friends will strengthen their bonds and teenagers are more susceptible to influences
by friends than families.
                In a nutshell, friends have more influence on teenagers compared to
families. Therefore, it is crucial for teenagers to choose their friends wisely and be
clear about what kind of person they want to be, rather than to be driven by the need
to fit in. Teenagers must have a clear conscience about what is right and wrong when
it comes to making decisions about friends. 

 
 
Descriptive Essay: Starbucks
Whenever I am free or just want to find a place to sit, what instantly springs to my mind is
Starbucks. It has a number of branches across Hong Kong and the one I visit most is located
in Hung Hom, the one nearest to my home where I occasionally spend my morning enjoying
a breakfast together with a cup of coffee.
Outside the shop, you can see the well-known circular sign on the glass window, which is the
logo of Starbucks showing an image of a twin-tailed crowned mermaid. The bronze banner
on the upper part of the shop features the big capital word “STARBUCKS COFFEE” in
green, distinguishing itself from the surrounding shops.
As I enter the transparent gate, beneath my feet is a floor made of stone bricks, and squeaky
sounds are heard while I walk towards the bar. The baristas are standing in front of me,
smiling an amicable smile and welcoming me passionately to the shop. A list of drinks is
displayed on the wall behind the bar, ranging from Cappuccino to Frappuccino, Caffe Latte to
Caffe Mocha, to name just a few. Besides the cashier are a set of coffee cup samples
illustrating different sizes – tall, grande and venti. Apart from the drinks, there are many
kinds of fresh food exhibited in the glass shelve layer by layer. You can buy pastries,
sandwiches, cakes or muffins alongside your coffee to enjoy a light meal. They have an oven
to reheat the food to retain the freshness and warmth of the delicacy.
The staff takes my order, hot Cappuccino, tall size. I get my receipt and move on to the next
counter to wait for my coffee. Delicious smell of coffee wafts up from the espresso machines.
There is also a blackboard on the wall near the beverage menu with a memorable everyday
quote written by chalks that will change from day to day. The one that is imprinted into my
mind is “what you do every day matters more than what you do every once in a while.”
Indeed, it is quite true. Just like paying a regular visit here can act as an incentive for me to
wake up early and make good use of my time in the morning, doing my work while enjoying
the coffee.
Walking through the corner to pick a seat, I notice that the interior has custom mural and
exposed brick walls which create a warm atmosphere. Reclaimed woods were used for the
bars, tables and condiment stations. The orange lighting of the shop gives a soft and warm
hue, making the environment cozy. Starbucks resemble an extension of porch or an epitome
of community which offers a comfortable and sociable gathering spot. In contrast to ordinary
restaurants, Starbucks are by no means a noisy place. The sound of chatters and laughter
blends harmoniously with the background music hovering around the shop, and the level of
its volume is just moderate.
Stone bricks and street views are in front of my eyes. A wave of popular music is vibrating
my ear drums. Where else can I enjoy such a delightful morning sniffing the aroma of coffee?
A taste of Cappuccino and its bubbles are twirling around my tongue. This is only the
beginning of a day.

Sample Essay 2:

The welcome scent of coffee wafts through the air, calling to my weary legs to come take a rest. A
metallic table reflects the sun, almost blinding me for a second. As I take a seat, i am surrounded by
mountains of plastic and paper bags which hold the contents of guilt ridden peoples’ shopping. They,
like me are taking a break from spending money they don’t have. The sun has heated the chair and it
feels comforting and warm. I look around for a waitress; the need for caffeine is now consuming my
mind. 

She teeters over in a mini skirt and a top that leaves nothing to the imagination. Her heels are so
impractical for someone who will be on their feet all day, but she knows they make her legs look
amazing. I take solace in the fact that her feet will be aching later, as mine are now. Her face is fixed
into a false smile. She has too much make up on and I doubt she can even remember the natural
colour of her hair. She pulls a pencil from behind her ear and goes through the routine questions she
asks every customer that visits the café. She chews her gum noisily between each word. I place my
order and sigh deeply. 

Birds swoop in from every direction, hoping for a stray crumb to feast on. The pavements are covered
with squabbling, pecking pigeons. They fight over the smallest speck of what may, or may not even be
food. Children run at them, squealing with pleasure as they scramble off into the air, leaving their
treasure behind. 

The noise from the traffic invades my thoughts. Lorries making deliveries, clattering and banging as
the drivers empty their cargo without a care. The heavy smell of exhaust fumes fills my nostrils and I
long to inhale the sweet aroma of my coffee. The street seems to be getting busier. More people,
carrying more bags, spending more money. Arguing with their partners loudly as the stress gets to the
most patient of people. The café in comparison seems calm. We patiently sit and wait for our orders,
courteously nodding at each other, if we happen to catch someone’s eye. Empty tables are strewn
with cups and packaging. Coffee or tea spilt on the gleaming metallic surface cheapens the look of the
café. My coffee arrives and everything else disappears. Just me, my thoughts and my beautiful Soya
latte.

Descriptive Essay: The Beach

    A draught blew by me taking my spirit with it. The strands of hair crossed my face; the sun peaked
its way above the horizon as if it was scared to shed some light. The smell of the salty sea tingled my
nose as I breathed in a breath of fresh air. The sand was a mine field of corals, with a collection of
many different multicolored sea shells; however at the same time, the sand was a bed of blankets. The
way the sand flowed onto my feet and out to the spaces between my toes made my heart somehow
pound like a synchronized drum beat in a marching band. It was as delicate as a new born baby; the
grains were so fine that it could not possibly be visible by the human eye. The waves were singing me
a dulcet lullaby, making me reminisce my childhood and drawing me closer into them. They were
inviting me in, with their everlasting arms wide opened but my feet wouldn’t listen at this hour
because the frigid waves penetrated my feet. So I sat down, watching the sun stretch its way out of
bed.
               As minutes ticked by, the warm rays gradually glowed; he greeted me with a friendly hello.
He reached down towards me and shined a streak of light as if he wanted to lend me a hand. The
blazing light pierced through my cold skin and gave me an immediate boost of excitement. The sun
worked his way up to the sky, distributing its power to everything at its sight. Birds were singing into
my ear with high spirits, roaming around the sky trying to claim it for itself. The sky shed its color
from dark misty indigo to an illuminated shimmering blue sky. Fluffy clumps of clouds that were
covering the sky before slowly fainted away into thin air and the crystal clear waves sparkled like
diamond and the cold waters began to heat up. I walked up to the edge of the beach again and dunked
my toe into the water. It felt as if my numbed foot from before melted into a puddle mixed with the
ocean. My acidic stomach turned to its side as the pungent smell of decayed algae filled the air. I
could hear the fish in the ocean screaming for attention; at the same time I could smell their fear
toward the sea gulls that were hungry looking for any fish in the water for lunch.
               People began to come out of their homes and enjoy the extraordinary gift God has created
for us. Eventually, the beach became a room filled with laughter. Children are scooping up the
featherlike sand and remolding them into magnificent image of their wild imagination. I stretch my
legs and slouch down on the platform of the beach; with an ice cream in one hand melting its way to
freedom, I spy on everyone on the beach. A group of teenage boys are playing tag with the girls as if
they were kids again; the beach really did bring everyone closer to each other and bring back
memories of your childhood. Everything was possible to do at the beach. From the way people dress
to the things they do, it describes them and their unique personality. Mad balls are thrown around in
the air as people play volleyball, football, soccer and all sorts of different ball games. Sweat dripped
down everyone’s faces after playing hard out in the sun; some race to reapply sunscreen on their
dehydrated flashed red skin whilst the others take a dive into the ocean to cool off. Water is splashed
everywhere from the people fooling around and the reflection of their faces showing a huge grin are
drawn on the waves. The waves show a smile in return and create a huge wave that carries everyone
safely back onto the shore. Out onto the far ocean, I can see glimpse of people riding jet-skis racing as
fast as a bullet toward the never ending horizon and up above; a humongous shade of red, blue and
green drizzle onto the shore as the parasails fly back in for landing. The sun is getting tired and is
slowly lying off its heat; towels are given out and the shops alongside are packing up getting ready to
close down. I could smell the success they have earned today and their high hopes for tomorrow’s
work awaits them.
               The day is ending, and slowly one by one, people are leaving after an exciting but tiresome
day at the beach; however I could almost see their lively hearts smiling at me. Some stay around to
see the spectacular view of when the sun sets and make a wish upon the horizon. Finally the sun
dipped into a pool of internal light, and the reflections of the waves saluted me as if for a moment I
was part of the beach.

LEVEL 1
Colour of the sea: The sea was jewel-blue.
The sky: The sky was like a curtain of silk.
In the sky: Tufty clouds of wizard-white drifted past.
The horizon: The horizon was a line of nickel-silver.
Sea sounds: The sea song of the waves soothed me.
Metaphors: The heap of sea swelled silently.
Motion: The waves were rippling gently.
On the sea: Clumps of seaweed got washed up on the beach.
The beach: The beach was shaped like a shepherd’s hook of gold.
Waves: Rollers of gem-blue dashed the sand.
Salt smell: The air was pregnant with the smell of salt.
Taste: We ate some yummy hot dogs.
Sensations: It was a heart-warming experience.

LEVEL 2
The sea was like a rippling blanket of brochure-blue. Squabbling seagulls flew overhead,
harassing the beachgoers in their endless hunger. Gannets were dive-bombing the stretched
surface of the sea far out from shore. The horizon was edged with a silver tint and a
cormorant was flying into that place where sun and water meet. His wings were a blur of
motion and he soon faded from sight.
The opera of the sea washed over me and the wave-music was welcome. It was soothing and
I was glad to get away from the hurly-burly and stresses of life. Davy Jones’s locker had
swallowed up many a man over the centuries, but the beach I walked on was an enchanting
paradise. It was half-moon shaped and there were no heaving waves to be seen, merely wave-
grooves in the sand. I shaded my eyes from the glowing daystar and looked out to sea again. I
could see dolphins flipping into the air like crackling popcorn. Their bodies flashed in steel-
grey and I could almost touch their glee. It was a skin-tingling experience to witness their
sea-dance.
The briny air carried a different smell also-spicy chicken. My stomach rumbled when I heard
it sizzling on the barbecue. I bought a few wings and it was like tasting Greek fire with all the
spices and sauces on it. I swore I would come back to this spellbinding place again someday.
I looked behind for the last time and already my footprints were fading as if I had never
been………….
LEVEL 5
Is there anything quite as blissful as an amble by the seashore? It’s like walking through an
airy womb of sky and sound. The sea is a cerulean-blue gown and the beach seems dipped in
earthshine-gold.
The mermaid’s call of the waves reaches out to you and you have to resist its siren call to
enter the copper-bottomed depths. Titan’s fiery wheel seems to be buckled to the immensity
of sky and the panorama of sights can overwhelm the other senses. When you cast your eyes
out to sea, you observe that the horizon is hemmed in sardine-silver. The waves in the
distance are like white creases on a vast bale of velvet and the lolling of the yachts is both
rhythmic and mesmerising.
The pulsing heart of the sea causes a gentle swell and the waves cascading onto the shore
have that ancient alchemy of purr-and-pound. When they uncoil, it is like an old, vellum
parchment is unrolling in front of your eyes. If you could read the script, it would probably
say just two words a hundred, hundred thousand times; never leave. Your eyes are drawn to
the dot in the sky getting nearer. It is a gannet, plump from poaching fish from the larder of
the sea. He is coming into frame and as he passes overhead, he leaves out a call that echoes
the alien emptiness of this place. This is Poseidon’s realm, he seems to say, and you should
not be here.

You look around and you admire the feng shui perfection of the beach. The palm trees are
lined in serried rows and dip their heads in obedience to the sea. They have an Eden-green
beauty that cannot be rivalled were you to travel to the far side of the world. Underneath
them, a springy undergrowth of lush-green seems to beckon you in to the rainforest. You will
let its sleeping soul rest today, however. You are here to savour the sea’s indefinable beauty
and let its vastness seep into your mind. With luck, you will carry fragments of it home as
memory.

The yachts lolling in the distance rock cradle-like and again you get the feeling that the sea
wants to lull you. You know that the same picture-perfect scene you are devouring with your
eyes has been a salty coffin for many an unwary mariner. The fool-strewn sea floor is not to
be underestimated, however sensuous it may seem above the surface. The glassy air carries a
faintly delicious perfume with it also. It is as if a vial is being slowly uncorked, revealing a
galaxy of otherworldly scents. Your nostrils are tantalised by its richness. It is neither the
pelagic smell of the salty waves nor the earthy cologne of the vegetation that you smell. It is
much more immediate, much more familiar that that.

Suddenly, you have a light bulb moment. You are disappointed at first. You realise your
cyan-blue paradise hosts other guests today. You are not alone. Then a mist of food scents
drift towards you and you are glad. The illegally-good carnival of toothsome aromas makes
your stomach sound like bottled thunder. You can detect flame-grilled tuna, exotic peppers
and zingy onions. You realise you are famished and guide your nose towards the barbecue.
Soon, you can hear people laughing. You take one last look at this utopia and absorb the jaw-
dropping scenery with your eyes. Then you turn on your heel and make your way to where
the cannibals are waiting for you………………

Sample Descriptive Essay 1: Carnival Rides

        I have always been fascinated by carnival rides. It amazes me that average, ordinary
people eagerly trade in the serenity of the ground for the chance to be tossed through the air
like vegetables in a food processor. It amazes me that at some time in history someone
thought that people would enjoy this, and that person invented what must have been the first
of these terrifying machines. For me, it is precisely the thrill and excitement of having
survived the ride that keeps me coming back for more.
        My first experience with a carnival ride was a Ferris wheel at a local fair. Looking at
that looming monstrosity spinning the life out of its sardine-caged occupants, I was
dumbstruck. It was huge, smoky, noisy and not a little intimidating. Ever since that initial
impression became fossilized in my imagination many years ago, these rides have reminded
me of mythical beasts, amazing dinosaurs carrying off their screaming passengers like
sacrificial virgins. Even the droning sound of their engines brings to mind the great roar of a
fire-breathing dragon with smoke spewing from its exhaust-pipe nostrils.
        The first ride on one of these fantastic beasts gave me an instant rush of adrenaline. As
the death-defying ride started, a lump in my throat pulsed like a dislodged heart ready to walk
the plank. As the ride gained speed, the resistance to gravity built up against my body until I
was unable to move. An almost imperceptible pause as the wheel reached the top of its climb
allowed my body to relax in a brief state of normalcy. Then there was an assault of stomach-
turning weightlessness as the machine continued its rotation and I descended back toward the
earth. A cymbal-like crash vibrated through the air as the wheel reached bottom, and much to
my surprise I began to rise again.
         Each new rotation gave me more confidence in the churning machine. Every ascent
left me elated that I had survived the previous death-defying fall. When another nerve-
wracking climb failed to follow the last exhilarating descent and the ride was over, I knew I
was hooked. Physically and emotionally drained, I followed my fellow passengers down the
clanging metal steps to reach the safety of my former footing. I had been spared, but only to
have the opportunity to ride again.
         My fascination with these fantastic flights is deeply engrained in my soul. A trip on
the wonderful Ferris wheel never fails to thrill me. Although I am becoming older and have
less time, or less inclination, to play, the child-like thrill I have on a Ferris wheel continues
with each and every ride
Sample Descriptive Essay 2: Coney Island in My Mind
             I would really love to visit Coney Island again. The place is far from the bustling city
and getting there is already part of the adventure. One can take the tunnel or drive but
whichever way you take when one arrives in the island, it’s like being transported in time.
There is that feeling of de`javu one gets when you see the heart of the island for the first time.
Maybe it is because of the old films that featured the amusement parks or because as a young
child you have had countless dreams of coming here. The place is filled with old buildings
and structures that remind us of how our parents and grandparents might have enjoyed the
Thunderbolt and the mermaid shows and the parachute drop and all the other parks when they
where younger.
             The merry-go-round, which has been the logo of the island, has been embedded in
the minds of my generation. One cannot fail to notice the romance in the air and the sweet
butterfly kisses of past and present lovers who had spent a memorable day in the ride. The air
is filled with childish adventure and laughter, that when one is walking the streets one would
surely smile and be filled with joy.
              The place is like a giant playground without the technologically advanced rides and
shows of today’s theme parks. It offers pure delight and tons of fun. It is a place where
everyone is invited to enjoy the sights and sounds of the place and be like children once again
discover how easier it is to smile and throw our miseries away.
              The whole island is an amusement park with candy stores, taverns, night shows and
a magnificent boardwalk. The chatter of children’s voices, the happy shrieks of teens, and the
smiles of everyone tells one why this place was and will always be America’s happy park.
The smell of popcorn and hotdog as one walks the streets to the parks reminds us of simple
days when our wants and desires were simpler. The people are friendly and in keeping with
the amusement business are always ready to make your visit to the island worth
remembering. When one strolls around the commercial center, one can do so leisurely
without the need to see everything, to ride everything and taste everything in one day, one
keeps coming back to Coney Island because it is removed from the hurried, impersonal and
rudeness of the city.
               In winter, the place is like a giant ice kingdom, where everything is glistening white
and silent. During this time, one can feel the sadness of the city, how it has been suspended in
time, and like a bear who sleeps in the winter, it wakes up in the spring. Sadly, not many
people visit Coney Island these days. Recently, the magnificent Thunderbolt has fallen from
its glory, quite literally. It has lost much of its famous rides and has been stripped of its
former grandeur, but nevertheless will always be an icon in America’s culture. The more
important it is that we visit Coney Island again, by doing so we will help keep it alive and be
a living heritage to our children.

Sample Descriptive Essay: THE ENCHANTED FOREST

The enchanted forest beckoned me into its pulsing heart. How could I resist such a lush
Garden of Eden? The deep, haunting ballad of its ancient song called out to me. As old as
Adam, the forest was still steeped in plushness and opulence. With a light heart, I plunged
into the over-arching vault of leaf and limb. It was not what I
had expected. The exquisiteness of the dawn’s light had not yet lanced to the lush, green
sward. Because of this, hoods of black shadow hung in the groves.

Coils of vaporous mist enwrapped the shaggy heads of the oak trees. They writhed around
them like a conjuror’s milky smoke, sensuous and illusory. Sieves of mist caressed the
lichen-encrusted bark. Adding its phantasmal gas to the damp breath of the forest, it glided
with deadly intent. It deadened sound, haunted glades and poured into empty spaces. A
sepulchral silence overhung the hallowed ground where the trees dared not grow. Nothing
stirred, nothing shone, nothing sang. A hollow echoing, like the hushed tones of a great,
slabbed cathedral, entombed the wood.

Then a finger of supernal light poked through the misty mesh. It was followed by a whole
loom of light, filtering down in seams of gold. Like the luminal glow of the gods, it chased
the shadows, banished the gloom and spilled into spaces where the mist once stalked. The
fluty piping of a songbird split the silence just as the forest became flooded with light. A
fusillade of trilling and warbling detonated all around me as the primordial forest came alive
with the troubadours of the trees. I darted between shafts of lustrous-gold light as I went,
admiring the butterflies. They pirouetted in the air, their wings a-whirr like little ripples of
silk.

The glory of the forest was revealed in the birthstone-bright light. Almond-brown trees stood
serenely, awash with a tender glow. Their bark looked like riffled toast and gems of amber 
clasped their crusty exterior. The first blush of the morn gave the leafy bower a green-going-
to-gold complexion.

Idling past suede-soft flowers, I caressed them softly, getting tingles in my fingers. My ears
perked up at the metallic, tinkling sound of a stream. It flashed with a tinsel tint through the
lace of leaves. When the trees parted, I could see it was sliding into an infinity-pool. The pool
looked like a polished mirror of silver, with skeins of swirl-white twisting slowly on the
surface. A shiny spillway led to a choppier pond. Boulders colonized the edges of the pond,
buffed with pillows of moss. They caused a rocky gurgling as water met stone; a swish, a
clunk, a swell and a clop. Sweet fragrances, alluvial and palliative, seemed to flit in and out
of my awareness. Sight and smell vied for attention in this soul-enriching dream world.
I put my back against a knobbly boulder, leaning my head against the mossy pillow. I closed
my eyes, let my stream of consciousness take hold, and drifted into infinity. When I awoke, I
couldn’t remember my dream, but softness and silvers still lingered in the memory of it.

You come across a shop in a side street which you have never noticed before. You enter,
and are amazed at what you see. Describe the interior of the shop and the things on sale
there.”
The shop was surprisingly large. In the middle of the shop was a large wooden staircase, its
old, rickety steps spiraling up towards the ceiling of the room. Very little light seemed to get
into the shop: the thick, musty curtains were pulled tightly shut, and the only source of light
came from a dim crystal chandelier that constantly flickered on and off, sometimes leaving
the entire shop in complete and utter darkness. The shop was old and musty; it smelled of old
socks and unwashed clothes. The air was sticky and damp. It seemed to cling on to me, its
long, bony fingers reaching out for my body. The old wooden shelves in the shop were
covered with dust and cobwebs. I could hear the quiet sounds of rats scuttling across the
hardwood floors, its paws scampering across the assortment of toys on the floor.

To the left of me was a wooden table, no larger than a school desk, its crimson color barely
visible in the dim, shadowy light. The table was worn out and old, bits of plaster and paint
were beginning to peel off, revealing a white, powdery surface. A large, bulky man was
sleeping on the table. He was old, to say the least. His eyes were sullen and heavy, his face
wrinkled and scarred, like the grain on a piece of wood. His face seemed to fold into itself,
revealing a bony skeleton that protruded from his skin. He was sleeping heavily, but his
breathing was labored and heavy, as if he was struggling to take in air. Occasionally, his
eyebrows would become furrowed and his upper lip would quiver, his entire face folding into
a look of intense concentration. He had a small top hat on that covered most of his head, yet
tufts of grey hair would stick out stubbornly from underneath the hat, refusing to shelter
within the large, cavernous interior of the hat.

I ventured further inside the shop, careful not to touch or break any of the intricately designed
objects on the shelves. Behind the giant network of tracks lay a small wooden puppet that sat
on its own in a dim, dark corner of the room that received nearly no light at all. The paint on
his face had worn off, and the childlike figure of the puppet had lost all of its youth: its smile
had faded into a sunken frown, its elongated nose seemed wilted and droopy, and its eyes
were lackluster, having lost its color and its pride. Yet it seemed to jerk magically alive as
I approached it. It had a life of its own: it could perform dance routines, albeit being slightly
clumsily has he performed a full twirl and spin. It could talk, but sometimes its voice would
splutter into no more than a mechanical, scratchy buzzing noise, as if it had come straight out
of a tape recorder or faulty radio. Yet, behind the veil of smiles and cheery, animated giggles,
there was a sadness inside him. In the midst of his dance routines, he would flash me a look
of desperation, of longing. The remaining tufts of hair on his nearly bald hair had grown grey,
his body still covered in dust, his arms were still stiff and rigid, bound by the cobwebs that
were strung on him during his years of disuse.

I moved along the rows and rows of broken toys, stacked carelessly on top of each other, all
fighting to see the light of day. Most of them sat idly, their intricate parts clogged together,
waiting– hoping– to be used or played with one day. Propped up on the back of the room,
waiting for me, was a soft, plushy teddy bear. It was life-sized. Its large fluffy arms hung
limply by its rounded belly. Its shoulders were slouched forward, with its black, beady eyes
hanging loosely off its face. Tufts of grey-brown hair stuck out from its uncombed fur. Its
wet, soppy nose still smelt faintly of cookies and mint, remnants of the past that the bear
desperately clung on to. The bear was dressed a tight fitting blue button-down shirt,
accompanied by khaki pants and tiny yellow wellington boots– clothes that were once
selected with love and care and pride, and told of a better time, when bears were still hugged,
when puppets were still danced around with, and when toys still received the affection and
love they deserved.
 Discursive Writing  
PURPOSE: to persuade

A point of view and thesis statement are required for both argumentative and discursive
essays. We may use the analogy of a court case. Consider the thesis statement as the defence
and the antithesis as the prosecution. There is no point in holding a trial without a verdict. In
terms of spoken text, consider your discursive essay as a debate in which both sides are
presented. Without a final adjudication, the debate has little purpose. Remember the purpose
of an exposition (argumentative or discursive) is to persuade, if the writer has no clear
viewpoint, then it is impossible to persuade the reader. 

Example: 

TITLE:
‘There’s no need to write letters any more. Telephoning is a better way of communicating
with people.’

STRUCTURE: 
 
 
1. Introduction – a short paragraph stating both points of view and a thesis statement. (The
thesis indicates your point of view)
 
It’s certainly  quicker to telephone than to write a letter but it may not always be the best
way to communicate. The use depends, like so many other things in life, on the
circumstances.

2. Points For – one paragraph giving reasons in favour. These reasons should be supported
by evidence and examples. (This will develop the antithesis)
 
Telephoning  is ideal if you want  immediate action. You wouldn’t want to write to the
plumber if you had water pouring through your ceiling, for example. It’s also the obvious
choice if you need a quick answer to a question like ‘What time is the next train to Oxford?’
or ‘Did I leave my wallet in your shop?’ Many problems can be solved more easily and
decisions taken more quickly if you can discuss them with someone on the phone rather than
wait for a reply to a letter. Finally,  few people would disagree that telephoning is a
pleasant way to keep in touch with friends and family.

3. Points Against – one paragraph giving reasons against. These reasons should be supported
by evidence and examples. (This will develop the thesis)
On the other hand, there can be a number of disadvantages to telephoning. In the first
place, some problems are too complicated to explain on the phone, especially if they involve
facts and figures, and it may be clearer if you set them out in a letter. Secondly, it might be
important to  have a record of what you say, especially if it’s a booking or a complaint. Last
but not least, telephoning, especially long-distance, can be terribly expensive.

4. Further support and follow a logical argument.

 
The nice thing about  receiving letters is that you can keep them and re-read them. Who
wouldn’t rather have  a six-page letter full of news from a friend abroad than a two-minute
telephone call on a bad line?
 
5. Conclusion – a brief paragraph stating your point of view (thesis) based on the reasons and
evidence you have given. 
To sum up, letter writing is far from  dead, in my view.  Each form of communication has
its advantages and disadvantages: the important thing to recognise is which is more
appropriate for what you want to say, and to whom.

DISCURSIVE ESSAY EXAMPLE: 

‘The Future is Bright’ 

The future is a mystery to everyone. Some people would argue that the future is bright
because modern technology will soon be able to solve most problems in our society. Other
people think that modern technology will bring about the destruction of the world. If we
consider the recent negative environmental and social trends in the world today it is
impossible to be optimistic about the future.

It can be argued that modern technology has solved many of the world’s problems, and may
continue to do so in the future. We have made rapid progress, especially in the fields of
medicine, communication and transport. [Scientists are now able to cure or prevent many of
the diseases that previously affected millions of people. For example, polio can be eliminated
simply by vaccination.[ As well as this there has been an explosion in the area of information
technology and communication. This also makes it easier to conduct business in any part of
the world.[ Along with the advances made in communication, transport has also been
improved all over the world. Even in developing countries, many people now own private
transport or are able to travel quickly and easily using public transport. Therefore, it is
sometimes claimed that technology will provide mankind with the universal panacea of the
future.

However, modern technology also brings many disadvantages.[ Pollution is one result of

increased technology and industrialization. The effects of this can be seen in the destruction
of the ozone layer as well as global warming. [Improvements in technology have also
increased the effectiveness of weapons, especially weapons of mass destruction. [As a direct
result of modern technology, certainly in the future new diseases will appear.
[Although transport has improved, it brings with it the danger of air pollution and traffic
congestion. [Overpopulation and starvation will increase in the future because natural
resources are limited and undoubtedly the amount of fertile land is decreasing steadily.

In conclusion, it is clear that for most people in the world the future is not bright because
mankind is destroying the environment through unsustainable development. Modern
technology can solve some problems but without careful planning the future looks bleak.
 
 
 
 
NOTES 
TOPICS
Typical discussion topics include statements which you are asked to agree or disagree with
(e.g. There’s too much violence on television.) and invitations to discuss aspects of a subject
APPROACH
Generally, the important thing is to consider the various aspects of the topic before giving a
balanced opinion. Occasionally, you may be asked directly for a personal opinion (e.g What’s
the best way to bring up children?), but even here you would need to consider some different
views so that you can contrast them with your own.
STRUCTURE
The structure of a discursive composition should be clear and logical. In the first paragraph,
introduce the topic and your argument. In the next, deal with one aspect of the topic. Give
supporting evidence in following paragraphs if necessary. After that, consider the opposite
point of view. In the final paragraph, sum up your argument and give a balanced personal
opinion.

USEFUL LANGUAGE

TITLE
It is usually a statement or a question.

Examples:
The mobile phone has made a positive contribution to our lives today
Friendships have become more important than family relationships
The computer has greatly improved our lives today 
Are electric cars a replacement for those powered by fossil fuels?
Is money the most important thing in life?  
 
INTRODUCING THE TOPIC
Many people believe /feel that… / It is often claimed that… / We often hear that…
People’s opinions on … differ widely.

DEVELOPING YOUR ARGUMENT

One of the main advantages of … is that …
In the first place, / Firstly, / To begin with, / To start with, / First of all,
Second, / Secondly, / In the second place, / Thirdly, / Finally, /Lastly, / Last but not least, …
In addition to that, / Apart from that, / Besides,
At first sight … but in fact,
Apparently (al parecer), / the fact is that, / As a matter of fact,
For example… For instance… A case in point is
Clearly, / Obviously, / Needless to say, / As everyone knows,

FOLLOWING A LOGICAL ARGUMENT

Therefore, / Consequently, / As a result, / Thus, / Hence, / For this reason,
For one reason or another, / Up to a point,
In general, / As a rule, / On the whole,
In a way, / In a sense, / In some sense, (e.g. In some sense I agree with you, but not entirely)
In particular, / Especially,
Let alone / Not to mention
In other words… in any case…
Things being as they are…

INTRODUCING ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Both … and / not only … but also …
In addition, / additionally, / in addition to this, / What is more, / Furthermore, /Moreover,/
likewise,
If this were not enough, / To make matters worse,
Above all, / On top of all this,
In these circumstances, /
With regard to, / For that matter,
As for…
Another advantage/ disadvantage is 
Besides this 
Finally,

EXPRESSING AN OPPOSITE POINT OF VIEW

Although, / However, / At the same time,
After all, /
In spite of + noun phrase/ -ing/ the fact that…
Despite + noun phrase/ -ing/ the fact that…
In contrast,

EXPRESSING BALANCE
Some people… while/whereas others …
On the one hand … on the other hand…
While it is true that… / that maybe so, but, surely…
On the positive side... On the negative side

EXPRESSING OPINIONS
In my view, / In my opinion, / It seems to me that… / As I see it, / To my mind,
I think/feel that … / I can honestly say that…
As far as I am concerned, / As far as I know, / For all I know, / To the best of my knowledge,
It is my firm belief that 
I would dispute the claim that 
It is probably true to say that
It is true to some extent that 
It cannot be denied that 
It would be wrong to argue that 
There can be no doubt that
It is simply not the case that
It is difficult to accept the idea that

Saying what other people think 

It is widely believed that
It is generally agreed that 
No one would dispute the fact that
Few people would contest (the fact) that
Few people would dispute (the fact) that 
Some people feel that
Others argue that  
There are those who argue that
It has been suggested that
It is often claimed that
Opponents/ Supporters/ Proponents (supporters) of (bullfighting) argue that

Referring to sources
All the evidence/research suggests/shows that
A recent survey proved that
Judging by the comments made by
Interviews with (students) have revealed that

REACHING CONCLUSIONS / SUMMING UP

In conclusion, / To conclude, / To sum up, / On balance,
All in all, / All things considered,
Taking everything into consideration, there are some good arguments for…

More examples: 

Are electric cars a replacement for those powered by fossil fuels?

Electric cars are currently being developed by many well-known automotive companies.
Many people still question whether electric cars are a feasible replacement for petrol and
diesel-fuelled vehicles. In this essay, I will explore the opinions for and against the use of
electric cars and their replacement of petrol and diesel-fuelled cars.

On one hand, electric cars are environmentally friendly. Not only are they powered by
renewable energy sources, but they are clean to run and maintain on the road. To support this
opinion, recent studies show that the use of electric cars helps to minimize pollution in urban
and rural areas. Clearly, electric cars are one way to tackle ecological concerns and support a
‘greener’ environment.

On the other hand, electric cars are inconvenient to maintain and to dispose of. The driver of
an electric vehicle must recharge his car approximately every 100 kilometres. In addition, the
plutonium battery of an electric car is toxic to the environment and must be safely disposed of
through expensive means. In brief, scientists are still exploring ways to produce these types
of vehicles so that they are easier to manufacture, maintain and use safely.

To sum up, it is evident that there are both pros and cons in the development of electric
vehicles. Despite the expense of development and the inconvenience of recharging electric
cars, I strongly believe that continuing with the research and production of these vehicles is
well worth the investment and that we should remain supportive to the use of electric cars and
to their development in the future.
 
Is money the most important thing in life?

Money is certainly something which is often discussed in today's world. Hardly a day goes by
without the subject of money being raised in most people's lives. However, it is highly
debatable whether it is more important than other considerations, such as health and
happiness, which some people consider to be of greater significance.

To begin with, it is often argued that having money enables people to exert influence over
others. Wealthy businessmen, for example, are often the most highly respected members of
society, and business tycoons are often consulted by world leaders, who then make policies
which affect the whole population. As a consequence, money can be seen as the single most
important factor in our daily lives. Secondly, from the point of view of the individual, money
is vital for survival. Our society is structured in such a way that, without money, people are
deprived of the means to obtain proper nutrition and health care. Furthermore, in some cases
where state benefits are inadequate, the inability to pay heating bills can indeed become a
matter of life and death. This is clearly illustrated by the fact that, according to Social
Services, the majority of deaths due to hypothermia each winter occur among low-income
groups.

On the other hand, many people claim that undoubtedly health is of greater importance than
money. Izaak Walton said “health is a blessing that money cannot buy.” What is more,
money is of little consolation to those who are suffering from health problems. Despite the
fact that money can pay for the best medical treatment and care available, this is no guarantee
of a longer life. In addition, most people would agree that personal happiness easily
outweighs money in importance. Even if an individual is extremely rich, this does not
necessarily lead to happiness. In some cases, the contrary is true and vast wealth brings with
it a whole range of problems and insecurities. Genuine happiness cannot be bought and does
not usually have anything to do with financial status.

On the whole, although there are those who would rank money the single most important
thing in life, the vast majority would disagree. Money, they argue, has an important part to
play but perhaps the world would be a more harmonious place to live in if this were kept in
proportion and society put more emphasis on moral issues.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
EXERCISES

1. Delete the incorrect alternative in each sentence.

1- He pays his own fees. For this reason / However / Consequently, he wants to complete his
degree as soon as possible.

2- Jane’s family have a lot of money. However / Thus / Nevertheless, they don’t give her
much.

3- Everybody failed the exam. Evidently / In addition to this / Obviously, it was too difficult.

4- Healthcare is very expensive in the United States. On the contrary / For this reason /
Hence, it’s a good idea to have health insurance.

5- She lives a long way from the university. Furthermore / Consequently / What’s more,
public transport in the area is very poor.

6- His sister studied Maths at university. Thus / However / In contrast, he studied French.

Sample Discursive Questions

 1. Most bullying in school is committed by teachers.

2. Should CCTVs be used in schools?
3. Inherited wealth is unfair and should be abolished.
4. Why is war bad?
5. Cigarettes should be expensive. 
6. Negative influence of fast food.
7. Negative effects of divorce on children.
8. Responsibilities of mother when raising the child.
9. Is Death Penalty Inhuman?
10. Pros and Cons of Adoption.
11. Euthanasia
 
Narrative Essay: Rebirth
I was just 14 years old when my life fell apart. My mother took one look at my humiliating
exam results and made an instant decision to transfer me to a new school. I was completely
crushed at the thought of leaving my close friends and having to start all over again. As a shy
and introverted person, the thought of leaving my comfort zone terrified me.
My fears became reality when I stepped onto the grounds of my new school. Everything felt
unfamiliar and intimidating. I felt like a country mouse stuck in a town who couldn’t find his
way to fit in. Everyone has formed their own clique and I was just the new boy who went to
class alone, ate alone and studied on his own. The void inside of me was growing so big that I
felt it could eat me up. Thoughts of suicide to end this pain started lingering in my mind. 
Whenever I reached home, my kind and concerned mother would ask me how was my day
and if things are getting better. I would put on my best fake assuring smile, while deep inside,
the stabbing pain of feeling isolated and lonely would grow. I am a human being after all,
what’s wrong with wanting to feel a sense of belonging and to have connection with others?
One fateful day, I decided to end the pain once and for all. I took the art knife from my
sister’s drawer and locked myself in the room. I sat on the cold hard floor, leaned against the
frame of my bed and slowly pushed the blade out of the protector with my right thumb. Soon,
it would all end. The excruciating pain. The inferiority. The agonizing loneliness. This blade
will slide through the thinnest skin of my wrist and a quick slit will cut through my veins to
end it all.
Suddenly, intense fear crept up to my unsuspecting mind, an inner voice was screaming at
me. I have been through the toughest time in my life; I was abandoned by my father at six
and my beloved grandfather was taken away by cancer when I was twelve, why can’t I go
through all this again? I was made for this, to endure suffering, to endure loss and pain, to
find happiness in the midst of the darkness, to find the light at the end of the tunnel, and most
importantly, making my mother happy and proud of me.

I threw the blade to the ground and sobbed. I cried and cried, half angry at myself for being a
coward and half thankful that this realization has dawned upon me. Then, I took a long, cold
shower which washed away my anger, resentment and pain. When I step out of this shower, I
will to be a whole new, different person. 
Begin your narrative essay with “It was a peaceful night….”
It was a peaceful night. The stars were twinkling brightly and the cool wind was
gently brushing as I was standing on the rooftop of my apartment. My eyes
savoured the magnificent view of the glorious city and the various types of
lights on the tall building, which gave the illusion of being in the cinema while
watching breathtaking advertisements about photography. 
Suddenly, a voice broke through the radio and announced that at 9 o’clock later,
a meteor shower would occur and it was speculated that it would be the most
stunning performance ever in the history of mankind. 
Jessica glanced at me with a smile. That sweet smile always melted my heart
and her smile was what I would live for. I held her hand and led her towards the
railing while we admired God’s mighty creation. In a few seconds, the universe
presented its epic celestial show. That picturesque moment of Jessica smiling
widely while watching the meteor rain, was forever stamped to my heart. 
However, the single beautiful moment was broken by Jessica’s sorrowful look
at my face. I knew that look. That look that was forever questioning when I
would put on a ring on her. I swallowed a gulp of uneasiness and avoided her
eyes. She gave a disapproving sigh and freed herself from my grip.
Suddenly, we were shaken by the sounds of windows and glass shattering. Like
missiles, the meteors fired away at the surrounding buildings, causing massive
destruction and damage. “Ka-boom!” One large impact made my vision blurry
and white. It felt as if bullets penetrated through my body and I was blasted off
the ground. Feeling like I was in outer space, I was floating around by the
impact and when I finally landed, I found myself in a bleeding mess.
When I opened my eyes, “Jessica” was the first word that escaped from my
mouth. She was nowhere to be seen. Could she been thrown off the building by
the impact? Did something fell on her that she couldn’t escape? Pangs of guilt
and regret started overwhelming me. I should have said those words when I had
the chance. Now it was too late.
My melancholic bubble was busted by the sound of the earth crumbling and a
loud roar. From a distance, I saw an unidentified massive creature emerged
from ground with its black-slitted yellow orbs glaring at me. I coughed out
some blood and I knew at that moment, nothing could have survived this
calamity.