Northern Lights

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This is a story about a little girl, named Lyra and her adventure into the North to rescue her friend and other kidnapped children. Lyra was an early teenage girl who was raised in the Jordan College in Oxford. Lyra was a happy and naughty child when she lived in the Jordan College. She had a best friend, Roger there. Roger, the kitchen boy, played and made mischief every day with her.

In their world (not the same the world here), every human has their own daemon accompanied with them even after death. There were armed bears, witches, Gyptians, and other northern peoples in their world.

One by one, many kids disappeared and they said that the Gobblers took the kids away and cut them to pieces. At the same day, a Gyptian boy, Billy, was missing, so was Roger. Meanwhile, Lyra was taken by Mrs.Coulter to London. Before layra left the Jordan College, the master of the Jordan College gave her a golden compass.

After Lyra ran away from Mrs. Coulter, she ran into some gyptians and started to live with them. She found out that Mrs. Coulter was her mother and Lord Asriel was actually her father. With some gyptians, she started her adventure to the North to rescue those kidnapped children. Help with essay on Northern Lights

Quotes

Lyra and her dæmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen.

Oh, Pan, dear, I cant go on! Im so frightened? And so tired? All this way, and Im scared to death! I wish it were someone else instead of me, I do honestly.

Why do they do these things to children, Pan? Do they all hate children so much that they want to tear them apart like this? Why do they do it?

I wish… she said, and stopped. There was nothing that could be gained by wishing for it. A final, deep shaky breath and she was ready to go on.

...I think it would be the silliest thing youve ever done in a lifetime of silly things....

Thats the duty of the old, said the Librarian, to be anxious on behalf of the young. And the duty of the young is to scorn the anxiety of the old.

This rivalry was hundreds of years old, and very deep and satisfying.

...I see the Master as a man having terrible choices to make; whatever he chooses will do harm, but maybe if he does the right thing, a little less harm will come about than if he chooses wrong. God preserve me from having to make that sort of choice.

Lyras knowledge had great gaps in it, like a map of the world largely eaten by mice....

Take old Belisaria. Shes a seagull, and that means Im a kind of seagull, too. Im not grand and splendid, nor beautiful, but Im a tough old thing and I can survive anywhere and always find a bit of food and company. Thats worth knowing, that is.

She would be able to stitch a wound or change a bandage, but never to tell a story.

Being a practiced liar doesnt mean you have a powerful imagination. Many good liars have no imagination at all; its that which gives their lies such wide-eyed conviction.

Witches own nothing, so were not interested in preserving value or making profits, and as for the choice between one thing and another, when you live for many hundreds of years, you know that every opportunity will come again.

The air seemed full of dark intentions, like the forms of thoughts not yet born.

The idea hovered and shimmered delicately, like a soap bubble, and she dared not even look at it directly in case it burst. But she was familiar with the way of ideas, and she let it shimmer, looking away, thinking about something else.

She was afraid of her father, and she admired him profoundly, and she thought he was stark mad; but who was she to judge?

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