This is beautiful: notes and letters Johnny Cash wrote.
•The first one is a letter to June on her 65th birthday
• The second is a to-do list he wrote himself
• The third is a letter to June after they had stopped preforming together
• The last is an entry he wrote after Junes passing
speaking, Slavic languages can be divided into those using the Cyrillic
alphabet and those using the Latin alphabet, but in truth each language
has developed its own modified alphabet. These language-specific
letters and diacritic signs can serve as surefire clues, but
unfortunately the task is much harder with speech, since accents and
dialects tend to confuse even the most skilled listeners.
So how do you tell Slavic languages apart?
The Cyrillic alphabet:
BELARUSIAN – ў
Belarusian is the only language which uses the letter ў. It sounds
similar to an English ‘w’, and the Latin transcription is ‘ŭ’. It is
most often encountered in word endings equivalent to the Russian -ov or
–ev suffixes, e.g., last names like Быкаў (Bykaŭ) or Някляеў
UKRAINIAN – ї and є
ıf you see an ï amidst Cyrillic letters, you’re most likely reading
Ukrainian. This letter is pronounced /ji/, and should not be confused
with ‘i’ (/i/), or with ‘й’ (/j/) and ‘и’ (/ɪ/), which all look and
sound slightly different.
Ukrainian is also the only language with the letter є ‒ in Russian the corresponding ‘э’ character faces the other way…
BULGARIAN – ъ
Ъ is a solid hint that you’re looking at Bulgarian ‒ it even pops up
in the name of the country: България. Though this letter (called ‘yer
golyam’/‘ер голям’) also appears in Russian and other Slavic languages,
it is not used frequently, whereas it appears regularly in Bulgarian.
This is perhaps because it is silent in other Slavic languages, but in
Bulgarian it symbolises a schwa sound (like the ‘u’ in ‘turn’). Make
sure you don’t confuse it with the soft sign, ‘ь’.
Additional hint: ата is a frequent grammatical ending in Bulgarian.
SERBIAN – ђ and ћ
The similar ђ (dzhe) and ћ (tshe) are evidence you’re dealing with
Serbian. Serbian Cyrillic doesn’t have many of the letters used in
Russian Cyrillic; forget about ‘ё’, ‘й’, ‘щ’, ‘ъ’, ‘ы’, ‘ь’, ‘э’, ‘ю’,
and ‘я’. If you want to tell Serbian apart from Russian, you can also
look for љ (ly’) њ (ny’) and џ (dʒ), but these are also present in
MACEDONIAN – Ѓ and Ќ
Macedonian is the only language with the letters Ѓ and Ќ. The little
accents over these Cyrillic letters are a surefire way to tell
Macedonian apart from Serbian. The letters stand for sounds similar to
the English [dʒ] and [t͡ʃ] – the latter sounding really Chinese.
Additionally, Macedonian features the letter ‘s’ [d͡z], which otherwise does not occur in the Cyrillic alphabet.
Famous for its inverted letters, Russian is probably the most
recognizable Slavic language out there. On the other hand it is quite
easy to confuse it with Ukrainian, Bulgarian or Serbian, so if you have a
full sentence on your hands, it’s best to proceed by elimination using
all the tips mentioned above.
The Latin alphabet:
POLISH – ł
If you see the letter ł with the characteristic slash through it,
you’re looking at Polish. Ą and ę (which are nasal consonants) are also
giveaways but be careful, both letters are also in the Lithuanian
alphabet (which is not a Slavic language). Digraphs like ‘sz’, ‘cz’, and
‘dz’, sometimes combined into consonant clusters like ‘prz’, ‘trz’, and
‘szcz’, are clues, but watch out for Hungarian, which has similar
SLOVAK – ä
Slovak is the only Slavic language to use ä, or ‘a s dvoma bodkami’
as the Slovaks call it. It comes up in words like ‘mäso’, ‘sôvä’, ‘rýbä’
(meat, owl, fish) and is pronounced like the English ‘a’ sound in
‘bad’. The same goes for ŕ, which is not used in any other Slavic
CZECH – ů
The Czech and Slovak alphabets are really similar. To tell them
apart, look for the tiny difference in the diacritic sign over the
letter r – where Slovak uses ‘ŕ’, the Czech letter has a tiny hook: ř.
Also, if you see the letter ů, it’s Czech.
CROATIAN – đ
Written Croatian can appear hardly discernible from Slovenian, Czech
or Slovak, with which it shares the letters as ‘č’, ‘š’, and ‘ž’, it has
an easy distinctive feature ‒ the so-called crossed đ. [dʑ]
The Bosnian alphabet is indistinguishable from Croatian. To identify
the language you would have to dig much deeper and look for differences
in vocabulary since Bosnian has some unique words, mostly of Persian and
Slovenian, which is the westernmost Slavic language, is also the most
discrete in terms of alphabet. In fact, it has only three special
characters, ‘č’, ‘š’, and ‘ž’, which also appear in Czech, Slovak and
Croatian. Again, your best bet is to proceed by elimination. (culture.pl)
Hello! Here is a full master list of all the letters in Dear Evan Hansen! Bellow each letter link I have a description of each letter and when it’s used in the play. If you see any missing, message me and I’ll add it to the list! I also included extra material at the end of the list. **Act two letters may contain spoilers!**
Note: This is a work in progress, and is actively being worked on!
- The most famous letter of the show. Evan wrote this letter in the computer lab on the first day of school, after a phone call with his mom. He printed it out and was found by Connor Murphy. After a short conversation with Evan, Connor asks if the letter is his. He begins to read it and sees the part about his sister, Zoe. Connor becomes mad and blows up on Evan. Evan pleads to get the letter but Connor takes it with him. This is mistaken by the Murphy’s as Connor’s last words or his suicide note.
Since I left you, I have been constantly depressed. My happiness is to be near you. Incessantly I live over in my memory your caresses, your tears, your affectionate solicitude. The charms of the incomparable Josephine kindle continually a burning and a glowing flame in my heart.
Napoleon Bonaparte to Josephine de Beauharnais in 1796
O, Jerome Squalor, what hasn’t been written about you?
Probably a lot. Professional doormats and wet blankets make for poor literary protagonists.
Now, Jerome seems to belong to Lemony’s cohort of friends and colleagues. It’s the generation commonly believed to be children/teenagers throughout “All The Wrong Questions” then adults in “A Series of Unfortunate Events”. However, he’s a bit of an oddball. Jerome indeed developed a close friendship with volunteers such as Jacques Snicket and the Baudelaire parents, and yet never became part of VFD until much later in life.
Have we ever considered why? It’s strange that his friends would keep their involvement in the organization a secret from him for so long. We see in “All The Wrong Questions” that Lemony wasn’t exactly shy of revealing a ton of VFD lore to the people he deemed worthy, once he had taken time to know them properly. Jerome, for some reason, was kept in the dark for YEARS.
This Sleuth believes his unique treatment was the consequence of an unfortunate event. We will modestly refer to it as “the snowy hook-up from hell”.
Find out more about this theory after the cut.
[NOTE TO READERS: I missed you too. It’s good to be back.]
I never write letters to famous people, but there’s a first time for everything, and I feel that it needs to be said.
I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. You were an inspiration to so many, including me and so many of my friends. Your music struck so many hearts across the world and saved so many people from from the monsters they were fighting. Your songs saved my friend. He was going to kill himself. He was listening to one of your band’s albums, and the words got to him and he stopped. He got help. He lived. He lived because of you.
You went through so much: child sexual abuse, depression, ptsd, addiction, the death of your friend, and so much more we may never know about. You are the furthest thing from a coward, despite what I’ve seen people say.
You have been a hero to so many. When my one of my friends found out what happened, she spent her entire evening in tears. You saved her life more times than any if us can count. Shes planning to get a tattoo of the band’s logo in your memory. When my friend M found out, he wore his old band shirt from years ago, when we were 13, and watched the videos he took at your concerts he’s been to since becoming a fan. When I found out, I thought it was just a bad dream, surely the guy I’ve looked up to for the last 7 years hadn’t died, right? We became fans during our difficult teenage years, and now, as adults, you still have a place in our lives. We, and so many others like us and unlike us from around the world, have listened to your music non-stop since news broke. We now view the lyrics in a different light, there were so many signs of how you were felling. How did we not notice?
I just hope you know how much you meant to us all and how many of us you helped. Please know we do not hate you for dying by the same thing that you saved us from, we are not angry. We are mourning, but we are sad on your behalf, because we know how much pain you must’ve been in. Your legacy will live on in your lyrics and your love, and to answer the question from One More Light, “who cares if one more light goes out?”, well… I do. We all do.
Following this recent post by @impossibleleaf, which related the tooth in the glowing skull to a gold front tooth in The Stockbroker’s Clerk, I thought I’d take a look at this story and another Doyle story that features a gold front tooth: The Man with the Watches. The latter is not exactly a Sherlock Holmes story; it’s one that was written after Doyle killed Holmes in The Final Problem but which features a Holmes-type mystery and a Holmes-type detective. Spoilers for both stories ahead.
First, a quick recap of The Stockbroker’s Clerk, which is one of several Holmes stories on the theme of “this offer is too good to be true”. The client is a man named Hall Pycroft, and he’s been coaxed away from a good job offer to instead work for a man with a gold tooth (Arthur). Meanwhile, Arthur’s brother Harry impersonates Pycroft for the sake of a stock theft. When Harry makes his move to steal the stocks, he is killed: his skull is shattered by a blow from behind. In his grief, Arthur tries to kill himself, but Holmes stops him, and makes an observation about brotherly love:
“You see that even a villain and murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited.”
I think that the most interesting aspects of this story are these:
an ambitious man named Pycroft who has been replaced at work by someone who is up to no good;
a gold tooth as identification; one man pretending to be his own brother; profound grief over the loss of the brother.
In the 1990s Bill Geerhart was an unemployed, not-so aspiring screenwriter in his 30s. To pass the time, he channeled his inner child, 10-year-old Billy, and started writing letters to famous and infamous people and institutions. These letters, written in pencil on elementary school ruled paper, asked funny but relevant questions to politicians, serial killers, movie stars, lobbyists, CEOs, and celebrity lawyers. Geerhart saved copies of his letters and the replies he got back.