Final Exam Study Guide

An Artist at Heart

Madeleine was not interested in mathematics, and she was not interested in literature, science, or history

either. Although she diligently showed up to these classes day after day, Madeleine's heart was not in her

work. Because she was obedient to her parents, Madeleine did all of her homework and because of her

kind spirit, Madeleine was always respectful of her peers and teachers. All together, Madeleine appeared to

enjoy her academic classes when, in reality, she was merely surviving them. From her perspective, these

classes were simple stepping stones to what really mattered to her—art.

From a young age, Madeleine was an exceptional artist. Her mother nicknamed her "the garbage lady"

because she would routinely rummage through the family's trash and recycling bins, looking carefully for

any old shampoo bottle or scrap of tissue paper that had the potential to become an integral part of a

sculpture. As the years went on, Madeleine managed to produce an art collection of unbelievable

magnitude.

Because Madeleine was so passionate about art, she always sought out her art teachers to seek whatever

knowledge she could from them and apply it to her techniques in various mediums. She spent hours after

school and on weekends honing her skills. Remarkably, Madeleine tried every medium imaginable, from

watercolor to charcoal, from paper mâché to decoupage, and from recycled material collages to simple

pencil sketches.

Madeleine spent hours, days, weeks, and months of every year working on art from the time she was a

little girl. Her basement was equipped with countless expensive art supplies, including an easel, dozens of

sets of various paints, and stack after stack of specialty paper. Because of her transparent and previously

unwavering dedication to art, it came as a shock to all who knew her when, one particularly unremarkable

Friday afternoon, Madeleine announced to her parents that she would no longer be pursuing art.

"What do you mean you do not want to be an artist anymore, sweetheart?" Madeleine's father asked, his

face full of disbelief.

"I just do not want to do it anymore for lots of reasons," Madeleine said, matter-of-factly. "Never mind that I

would never make any money or earn any respect being an artist, but the last thing I want to do is foolishly

hitch my wagon to a star."

By the following Monday, word had spread that Madeleine was not planning on attending her art class,

instead opting to take a study hall. As she confidently walked down the row of crowded desks in study hall,

her friend Katherine stopped her.

"Madeleine, what is going on with you these days? Are you seriously not going to be doing art anymore?"

Katherine asked, her face full of concern.

"Yes Katherine, I am no longer going to do art," Madeleine said, taking a seat behind her friend. "I am no

good at it anyway, and I know when it is time to evaluate my options and choose the sensible path."

"What are you talking about, Madeleine? You are an incredible artist, and anyone who told you otherwise

is crazy!"

"No, you might be the crazy one for calling me an incredible artist, because I entered the regional

watercolor art competition, the statewide sculpture competition, and the national pen and ink competition,

last month. I did not win a single award, honorable mention, or letter of distinction, and therefore it is clearly

time to give up," said Madeleine, her false confidence of just a few minutes before draining out of her like a

deflated balloon.

"I am so sorry that you did not win those competitions, Madeleine," said Katherine. "You cannot let a few

competitions stop you from being the incredible artist that you are destined to be. Seriously, get out of this

study hall and return to art class, because you are an artist in your heart and have been since I met you."

These strong words did not fall on deaf ears, but Madeleine was not entirely ready to return to art class.

In the end, Madeleine knew that she needed to find a valid reason to return to art if she returned at all and that it needed to come from inside of her and not from outer validation of her talent. She decided to allow

herself a complete respite from art to regroup and figure how she wanted to proceed in her studies. In fact,

she stayed in study hall for a full week before she decided, finally, to return to art class.

The day she had decided to return, Madeleine approached the art classroom door, nervous that her

teacher would be disappointed in her absence or her classmates would think her a quitter. She discovered

that her fears had no foundation, as they all welcomed her warmly as she entered the room. Amidst all the

hugs and "welcome backs" from her classmates, Madeleine's teacher pulled her aside.

"Madeleine, I heard about your disappointments, and I know how hard it is to have your work evaluated,"

her teacher said. "What made you decide to come back to class and pursue art after all?"

"Well, my friend Katherine said that I was an incredible artist and had been for years," she started. “So,

last night I decided to look through my bins full of artwork, and I found hours upon hours of work I had done.

I found art that represented every major event, heartache, happy memory, and trying time of my entire life. I

knew then, as I worked my way through my history of art, that Katherine was right. Ultimately, art is an

essential part of my being, and there is no possible way I could quit now. No matter what a few random

judges might think of my work, I am an artist at heart."

Cut the Coffee

In a country of millions of coffee houses, coffee has become a powerful entity in the U.S. Billions of dollars

are spent by Americans yearly on coffee. Coffeehouse lines wrap through the stores and out onto the sidewalks on a regular basis as people flock to get their daily cup of joe. Coffeehouses charge exorbitant rates, and people pay them for both specialty drinks and regular brewed coffee. Why is coffee such a force to be reckoned with?

Champions of coffee generally argue that it has health benefits. They claim that consistent coffee

consumption over years can slightly decrease the occurrence of liver cancer, Parkinson's Disease, and diabetes.While they may be loosely based on empirical data, these claims do not make any guarantees.

Coffee lovers also claim that the caffeine component in coffee helps with alertness. Many who drink coffee

claim that, without it, they would not be able to wake up in the morning. They credit coffee with giving them the ability to function during the workday. While caffeine does artificially perk up the central nervous system, sufficient amounts of sleep do the same thing in a natural way. A simple good night's sleep and a healthy breakfast could produce the same effects as a cup of coffee without the potentially harmful effects coffee brings to the table.

What are these potentially harmful effects? Drinking large amounts of coffee can cause dehydration,

unhealthy weight gain, insomnia, nausea, acid reflux, and heart problems.

First, caffeine is a drug, a stimulant. It speeds up the work of the central nervous system and can cause

dehydration. If American adults are constantly drinking coffee, they are most likely not drinking enough water. Coffee is a diuretic, which causes fluid to leave the system, taking with it valuable calcium. With years of repeated coffee consumption, people can suffer from dehydration and eventually even osteoporosis and skin wrinkles.

Second, coffee is not just coffee anymore. While over half of all American adults drink coffee, only about a quarter of them drink regular black coffee. That means that 75 percent of coffee drinkers are adding sugar, cream, or both to their coffee. Of that 75 percent, many are drinking specialty drinks like lattes, mochas, and cappuccinos. The majority of these drinks have incredible amounts of sugar and cream added to them. The amounts are unbelievable, but many people who drink them on a daily basis have no idea how much sugar and fat is in their morning coffee.

Third, the caffeine in coffee interrupts sleep. While it is true that many Americans drink coffee to wake up in the morning, caffeine can also wake people up in the night. Drinking coffee too late in the day has been shown to cause insomnia. When people suffer from insomnia, they often wake up the next morning and drink coffee again to fight their fatigue, and the horrible cycle ensues.

Fourth, coffee can hurt the digestive system, particularly the esophagus and the lining of the stomach. The

caffeine can negatively affect the valve where the esophagus meets the stomach. When this happens, the valve sends stomach acid into the esophagus, causing painful heartburn and acid reflux. What is worse is that the acid in the coffee beans, whether from regular or decaffeinated coffee, causes the stomach to produce more harmful acid.

Finally, drinking coffee can cause heart problems, primarily through high blood pressure and heart

palpitations. Caffeine, being a stimulant, can cause the heart to speed up and the blood vessels to restrict. The dehydration from caffeine does nothing to help the heart, either.

Clearly, the long–term health risks of drinking coffee greatly outweigh the temporary, artificial "awake"

feeling it produces. Americans should think twice before lining up at the coffeehouse to buy sugary, fatty coffees and instead opt for a decaf tea, or, better yet, water. Drinking a sufficient amount of water, as opposed to coffee, helps keep skin healthy and the body hydrated. Also, where coffee drinks can be packed with fat and calories, water has no fat or calories. Further, where coffee harms the digestive system, water keeps both the urinary and the intestinal tracts moving things along properly, ridding the body of wastes in a sufficient manner.

While it seems obvious that our glasses should be filled with water instead of our mugs with coffee, it is not always easy to break the coffee habit. Once a person drinks coffee consistently over a period of time, his or her body comes to expect the effects of drinking it. The body actually becomes addicted. Caffeine withdrawal is no laughing matter as it can cause headaches, stomachaches, difficulty concentrating, and trouble sleeping. It is important, though, that Americans not passively accept that caffeine is a necessary part of life. While it is difficult to loosen the grip of caffeine on our bodies, withdrawal symptoms are only temporary, and they are worth the effort to make our bodies healthier. The answer is clear: Americans should cut the coffee.

Report to the American People on Energy, February 2, 1977

by Jimmy Carter

Jimmy Carter was the thirty-ninth president of the United States (1977–1981). Energy policy was a main

focus of his administration. In 1977, the year of this speech, Carter signed the law creating the United

States Department of Energy and proposed a sweeping energy reform plan. George W. Bush was the forty-third president of the United States (2001–2009). Like President Carter, Bush grappled with the problem of America's growing rate of energy consumption. The 2003 war with Iraq reminded the country of its

dependence on the Middle East for oil, spurring investigation into other oil sources.

One of our most urgent projects is to develop a national energy policy. As I pointed out during the

campaign, the United States is the only major industrial country without a comprehensive, long-range

energy policy. . . .

I realize that many of you have not believed that we really have an energy problem. But this winter has

made all of us realize that we have to act.

Now, the Congress has already made many of the preparations for energy legislation. Presidential

assistant Dr. James Schlesinger is beginning to direct an effort to develop a national energy policy. Many

groups of Americans will be involved. On April 20, we will have completed the planning for our energy

program and will immediately then ask the Congress for its help in enacting comprehensive legislation.

Our program will emphasize conservation. The amount of energy being wasted which could be saved is

greater than the total energy that we are importing from foreign countries. We will also stress development

of our rich coal reserves in an environmentally sound way; we will emphasize research on solar energy and

other renewable energy sources; and we will maintain strict safeguards on necessary atomic energy

production.

The responsibility for setting energy policy is now split among more than 50 different agencies,

departments, and bureaus in the Federal Government. Later this month, I will ask the Congress for its help

in combining many of these agencies in a new energy department to bring order out of chaos.

Congressional leaders have already been working on this for quite a while.

We must face the fact that the energy shortage is permanent. There is no way we can solve it quickly. But

if we all cooperate and make modest sacrifices, if we learn to live thriftily and remember the importance of

helping our neighbors, then we can find ways to adjust and to make our society more efficient and our own

lives more enjoyable and productive. Utility companies must promote conservation and not consumption. Oil

and natural gas companies must be honest with all of us about their reserves and profits. We will find out

the difference between real shortages and artificial ones. We will ask private companies to sacrifice, just as

private citizens must do.

All of us must learn to waste less energy. Simply by keeping our thermostats, for instance, at 65 degrees in the daytime and 55 degrees at night we could save half the current shortage of natural gas.

There is no way that I, or anyone else in the Government, can solve our energy problems if you are not

willing to help. I know that we can meet this energy challenge if the burden is borne fairly among all our

people—and if we realize that in order to solve our energy problems we need not sacrifice the quality of our

lives.

"Report to the American People on Energy, February 2, 1977" by Jimmy Carter. In the public domain.

Speech on Energy, June 18, 2008

by George W. Bush

For many Americans, there is no more pressing concern than the price of gasoline. Truckers and farmers

and small business owners have been hit especially hard. Every American who drives to work, purchases

food, or ships a product has felt the effect. And families across our country are looking to Washington for a

response.

High oil prices are at the root of high gasoline prices. And behind those prices is the basic law of supply

and demand. . . . Now much of the oil consumed in America comes from abroad—that's what's changed

dramatically over the last couple of decades. Some of that energy comes from unstable regions and

unfriendly regimes. This makes us more vulnerable to supply shocks and price spikes beyond our control—

and that puts both our economy and our security at risk.

In the long run, the solution is to reduce demand for oil by promoting alternative energy technologies. My

administration has worked with Congress to invest in gas-saving technologies like advanced batteries and

hydrogen fuel cells. We've mandated a large expansion in the use of alternative fuels. We've raised fuel

efficiency standards to ambitious new levels. With all these steps, we are bringing America closer to the day

when we can end our addiction to oil, which will allow us to become better stewards of the environment.

In the short run, the American economy will continue to rely largely on oil. And that means we need to

increase supply, especially here at home. . . .

First, we should expand American oil production by increasing access to the Outer Continental Shelf, or

OCS. Experts believe that the OCS could produce about 18 billion barrels of oil. That would be enough to

match America's current oil production for almost ten years. The problem is that Congress has restricted

access to key parts of the OCS since the early 1980s. Since then, advances in technology have made it

possible to conduct oil exploration in the OCS that is out of sight, protects coral reefs and habitats, and

protects against oil spills. With these advances—and a dramatic increase in oil prices—congressional

restrictions on OCS exploration have become outdated and counterproductive. . . .

Second, we should expand oil production by tapping into the extraordinary potential of oil shale. Oil shale

is a type of rock that can produce oil when exposed to heat or other process[es]. In one major deposit—the

Green River Basin of Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming—there lies the equivalent of about 800 billion barrels of

recoverable oil. That's more than three times larger than the proven oil reserves of Saudi Arabia. And it can

be fully recovered—and if it can be fully recovered it would be equal to more than a century's worth of

currently projected oil imports. . . .

Third, we should expand American oil production by permitting exploration in the Arctic National Wildlife

Refuge, or ANWR. When ANWR was created in 1980, Congress specifically reserved a portion for energy

development. In 1995, Congress passed legislation allowing oil production in this small fraction of ANWR's

19 million acres. With a drilling footprint of less than 2,000 acres—less than one-tenth of 1 percent of this

distant Alaskan terrain—America could produce an estimated 10 billion barrels of oil. That is roughly the

equivalent of two decades of imported oil from Saudi Arabia. . . .

With these . . . steps, we will take pressure off gas prices over time by expanding the amount of American made oil and gasoline. We will strengthen our national security by reducing our reliance on foreign oil. We

will benefit American workers by keeping our nation competitive in the global economy—and by creating

good jobs in construction, and engineering, and refining, maintenance, and many other areas.

"Speech on Energy, June 18, 2008" by George W. Bush. In the public domain.

All the Lovely Stars (revised)

All the Lovely Stars

Born in the Atlanta area, I have lived here all of my life, and I love the varying seasons: dazzling occasional snow in winter, glorious dogwoods and azaleas in spring, twinkling fireflies and picnics in summer, and brilliant red and yellow leaves in autumn. I also adore the opportunities for adventure available to us, such as exciting rafting trips down whitewater rapids in the mountains, relaxing beach time on the white sands of our barrier islands. While I can’t even imagine living anywhere else, that doesn’t hold true for my mom.

She was raised in Arizona and moved to Georgia with my dad after they had met at Arizona State University and before I was born. Although she says that she considers Atlanta her home now, I recognize the fact that she misses her birth place. Sitting on our deck in the cool evening, she likes to tell me stories about her childhood in another state, filling the evening with stories of the desert.

“It almost looks like a moonscape—barren, nothing during the day,” she begins, “but the desert comes alive at night, the animals rising out of the sand. In the middle of it all and away from city lights, I used to gaze at the startling sky. The stars seemed so close and so brilliant that I could almost reach up and touch them. I wish I could share the sight of all the lovely stars with you, but Arizona is far away, and we never seem to have enough time to visit there,” she adds with a sigh. She pats my hand, glances at the heavens, and returns inside a bit misty.

I always politely seem to pay attention, but listening to stories about Arizona isn’t always my favorite evening

activity. The thought of sandstorms, scorching heat, venomous scorpions and snakes, and vast expanses with nothing but cacti doesn’t seem very alluring to me, which explains why I was not pleased when my mom told me her “fabulous” news.

One evening, rushing in from work, she immediately began calling my name, sounding happier than she had in a very long time. “Things have slowed down at work, so my boss gave me time off during your Spring Break, and I found a terrific airfare online. We’re going to Arizona!” she bubbled. “We’ll climb Saddleback Mountain. You can see where I went to school. We can shop and look at native art. We can go out on the desert and look at the stars together. It’s going to be so much fun!” My heart sank.

“Are you kidding me?” I retorted after a long pause. “You said I could go to the beach with Tanzie and her family this year. We’ve spent a month planning this!”

Looking as if I had thrown a bucket of cold water on her, she quietly responded, “I didn’t know I could get the week off when I said that you could go. I want to share this with you. We’ll spend time together. You’ll see things you’ve never seen before. Tanzie’s family will understand.” I knew that meant no more discussion. With a deep sigh, she turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen to make dinner while I glumly reached for my phone to give my friend the bad news. The family, of course, did understand and were excited for me that I would be spending my break with my mother.

The next two weeks, however, found us in a silent battle; she made lists and prepared for the “big adventure,” and I replied with a half-hearted “Sure…” or “Okay…” while scrolling through my phone. Occasionally she looked pained at my response, but I pretended not to notice. Why on earth would anyone want to visit a “moonscape” for vacation when the beach offered so much more to do? Her growing enthusiasm was met with my growing resistance as I refused to join in her ecstatic musings.

Two days before our scheduled departure, she stood at the door before work and wished me a good day at

school. Tonight, we would pack so that we would be ready bright and early on Saturday for the flight. I rolled my eyes in silent reply and refused to engage in conversation. With a frank look and a deep sigh, she shook her head and silently but firmly closed the door.

Not even an hour later, however, I received her text message. She was in the emergency room after a fall at work. She was waiting for the results of the x-ray, but her ankle was probably broken. She’d be fine, but if I got home first, there was still enough in the refrigerator for dinner.

That was my mother—thinking about my well-being first, concerned about what I would eat while she was at the hospital, trying to reassure me. I spent the rest of my day awash in worry and guilt, slogging through my classes, thinking about my mom, ashamed of my actions over the last few weeks.

Shaken and pale, she was lying on the sofa when I arrived home, and her leg was propped up looking swollen and dreadfully painful. “It’s fractured,” she sighed with a weak smile and a vague wave at her lower extremity. “I had too much on my mind, and I missed a step at work.” I gave her hand a squeeze and tried to smile reassuringly. “I had to cancel the tickets, Christina, as I can’t make the trip like this—and there’s no beach for you either. I’ll need your help around here. I’m so sorry I’m ruining your Spring Break.” Her eyes filled with tears while I plumped her pillow.

Once she had dozed off, I aimlessly started researching Arizona, casting around for something other to do than worrying about her. The images were suddenly tantalizing, and I found myself wishing that we were making the trip. The vistas were breathtaking, and there seemed to be so much recreation there. It could have been a perfect vacation, but I had been so… so resistant. I hadn’t really given her or Arizona a chance. With sudden insight, I realized the perfect olive branch would be to bring the desert to her so that she would have something to look at while she mended.

By the middle of my Spring Break, she was feeling a bit better, and my masterpiece was nearly complete. With the help of a few friends and with some in-depth research while my mom rested, I had built a miniature desert in an old aquarium, complete with sand, cacti, and a few paper images of the native wildlife. I sculpted my “moonscape” with as much attention to detail as I could muster. While she slept on the sofa, I quietly set my personal version of Arizona next to her bed and added the final touch to the other half of her get-well gift.

After her nap, I maneuvered my mom into her room. Still a bit groggy, she smiled at me as if wondering what we were doing. “We’ll get to Arizona one of these days,” I promised her, “but until then, I built you your own little piece of it.” I pointed her towards my miniature Arizona. She examined every inch of the tiny desert and smiled with joy, declaring it very accurate, incredibly thoughtful, and very touching. “There’s one more thing,” I replied, turning off the overhead light and plugging in an extension cord. From her ceiling, miniature lights glowed in an attempted recreation of Arizona’s night sky.

"Oh my," she whispered, "look at all the lovely stars!"

The War of the Worlds

(excerpt from Chapter 10, "In the Storm")

by H.G. Wells

And this Thing I saw! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over

the young pine trees, and smashing them aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding

now across the heather; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage

mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in

the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer.

Can you imagine a milking stool tilted and bowled violently along the ground? That was the impression

those instant flashes gave. But instead of a milking stool imagine it a great body of machinery on a tripod

stand.

Then suddenly the trees in the pine wood ahead of me were parted, as brittle reeds are parted by a man

thrusting through them; they were snapped off and driven headlong, and a second huge tripod appeared,

rushing, as it seemed, headlong towards me. And I was galloping hard to meet it! At the sight of the second

monster my nerve went altogether. Not stopping to look again, I wrenched the horse’s head hard round to

the right and in another moment the dog cart had heeled over upon the horse; the shafts smashed noisily,

and I was flung sideways and fell heavily into a shallow pool of water. I crawled out almost immediately, and

crouched, my feet still in the water, under a clump of furze. The horse lay motionless (his neck was broken,

poor brute!) and by the lightning flashes I saw the black bulk of the overturned dog cart and the silhouette of

the wheel still spinning slowly. In another moment the colossal mechanism went striding by me, and passed

uphill towards Pyrford.

Seen nearer, the Thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere insensate1 machine driving on its way.

Machine it was, with a ringing metallic pace, and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which gripped a

young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange body. It picked its road as it went striding along, and

the brazen hood that surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a head looking about.

Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal like a gigantic fisherman’s basket, and puffs of

green smoke squirted out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me. And in an instant it was

gone.…

As it passed it set up an exultant deafening howl that drowned the thunder — “Aloo! Aloo!” — and in

another minute it was with its companion, half a mile away, stooping over something in the field. I have no

doubt this Thing in the field was the third of the ten cylinders they had fired at us from Mars.

For some minutes I lay there in the rain and darkness watching, by the intermittent light, these monstrous

beings of metal moving about in the distance over the hedge tops. A thin hail was now beginning, and as it

came and went their figures grew misty and then flashed into clearness again. Now and then came a gap in

the lightning, and the night swallowed them up.

1insensate: without human feeling; cruel; inanimate

Excerpt from The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. In the public domain.

Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex)

by Sophocles (497 B.C.-405 B.C.)

THE CHARACTERS

OEDIPUS

THE PRIEST OF ZEUS

CREON

THE SCENE

A year into Oedipus’s reign over Thebes, the city is in the midst of a terrible plague. The priest and his followers are gathered before the Palace of Oedipus in Thebes. The priest has implored Oedipus to do something about the plague. He and Oedipus await the arrival of Creon, who has been sent to seek advice from the Delphic Oracle.

[Enter CREON.]

OEDIPUS

Speak before all; the burden that I bear

Is more for these my subjects than myself.

CREON

Let me report then all the god declared.

King Phoebus bids us straitly extirpate

A fell pollution that infests the land,

And no more harbor an inveterate sore.

OEDIPUS

What expiation means he? What’s amiss?

CREON

Banishment, or the shedding blood for blood.

This stain of blood makes shipwreck of our state.

OEDIPUS

Whom can he mean, the miscreant thus denounced?

CREON

Before thou didst assume the helm of State,

The sovereign of this land was Laius.

OEDIPUS

I heard as much, but never saw the man.

CREON

He fell; and now the god’s command is plain:

Punish his takers-off, whoe’er they be.

OEDIPUS

Where are they? Where in the wide world to find

The far, faint traces of a bygone crime?

CREON

In this land, said the god; “Who seeks shall find;

Who sits with folded hands or sleeps is blind.”

OEDIPUS

Was he within his palace, or afield,

Or traveling, when Laius met his fate?

CREON

Abroad; he started, so he told us, bound

For Delphi, but he never thence returned.

OEDIPUS

Came there no news, no fellow-traveler

To give some clue that might be followed up?

CREON

But one escape, who flying for dear life,

Could tell of all he saw but one thing sure.

OEDIPUS

And what was that? One clue might lead us far,

With but a spark of hope to guide our quest.

CREON

Robbers, he told us, not one bandit but

A troop of knaves, attacked and murdered him.

OEDIPUS

Did any bandit dare so bold a stroke,

Unless indeed he were suborned from Thebes?

CREON

So ’twas surmised, but none was found to avenge

His murder mid the trouble that ensued.

OEDIPUS

What trouble can have hindered a full quest,

When royalty had fallen thus miserably?

CREON

The riddling Sphinx compelled us to let slide

The dim past and attend to instant needs.

OEDIPUS

Well, I will start afresh and once again

Make dark things clear. Right worthy the concern

Of Phoebus, worthy thine too, for the dead;

I also, as is meet, will lend my aid

To avenge this wrong to Thebes and to the god.

Not for some far-off kinsman, but myself,

Shall I expel this poison in the blood;

For whoso slew that king might have a mind

To strike me too with his assassin hand.

Therefore in righting him I serve myself.

Up, children, haste ye, quit these altar stairs,

Take hence your suppliant wands, go summon hither

The Theban commons. With the god’s good help

Success is sure; ’tis ruin if we fail.

[Exeunt OEDIPUS and CREON.]

Excerpt from Oedipus Rex by Sophocles. In the public domain.