LOTF storyboard

LOTF storyboard
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  • "Where's the man with the megaphone? The fair boy shook his head. This is an island. That's a reef out at sea. Perhaps there aren't any grownups anywhere." Golding Pg.2
  • "Tell us about the snake thing. Now he says it was a beastie. Beastie? A snake thing. Ever so big. He saw it. Where? In the woods. Golding Pg.39
  • "The sticks fell and the mouth of the new circle crunched and screamed. The beast was on its knees in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast , screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws. Golding Pg 194
  • "It was  an accident , said Piggy suddenly, that's what it was. an accident. His voice shrilled again. Coming in the dark- he hadn't no business for crawling like that out of the dark. He was batty. He asked for it. He gesticulated widely again. It was an accident. You didn't see what they did-... Don't let on we was in that dance. Not to Samneric. But we were! All of us! Golding Pg. 200
  • But they'll be painted ! You know how it is. The others nodded. They understand to well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought. Well, we won't be painted, said Ralph, because we aren't savages." Golding Pg.221
  • "Cautiously, his stick behind him, Ralph wormed between the rising stems... The seconds lengthened. Ralph was looking straight into the savage's eyes. Don't scream. You'll get back. Now he's seen you. He's making sure. a stick sharpened. Ralph screamed, a scream of fright and anger and desperation. His legs straightened, the screams became continuous and foaming. He shot forward, burst the thicket, was in the open, screaming, snarling, bloody. He swung the stake and the savage tumbled over; but there were others coming toward him, crying out. He swerved as a spear flew past and then was silent, running... the roar of the forest rose to thunder and a tall bush directly in his path burst into a great fan-shaped flame. He swung to the right, running desperately fast, with the heat beating on his left side and the fire racing forward like a tide. Golding Pgs 256-257
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