Excerpt from A Defence of Skeletons G. K. Chesterton

The importance of the human skeleton is very great, and the horror with which it is commonly regarded is somewhat
mysterious. Without claiming for the human skeleton a wholly conventional beauty, we may assert that he is certainly not
uglier than a bult-dog, whose popularity never wanes, and that he has a vastly more cheerful and ingratiating expression
But just as man is mysteriously ashamed of the skeletons of the trees in winter, so he is mysteriously ashamed of the
skeleton of himself in death. It is a singular thing altogether, this horror of the architecture of things. One would think it
would be most unwise in a man to be afraid of a skeleton, since Nature has set curious and quite insuperable obstacles to
his running away from it.

One ground exists for this terror a strange idea has infected humanity that the skeleton is typical of death. A man might
as well
say that a factory chimney was typical of bankruptcy. The factory may be left naked after ruin, the skeleton may be
left naked after bodily dissolution, but both of them have had a lively and workmanlike life of their own, all the pulleys
creaking, all the wheels turning, in the House of Livelihood as in the House of Life. There is no reason why this creature
(new, as I fancy, to art), the living skeleton, should not become the essential symbol of life

Question:
How does the author respond to the popular idea that skeletons are reminders of death?

A)He shows that skeletons are not really alive, so they cannot really die

B)He argues that skeletons are one of the liveliest parts of the human body

C)He maintains that the fear of death and skeletons is irrational and should be
conquered

D)He urges that more education about human anatomy is the best way to
dispel the association of skeletons with death

Industrialization in europe changed the way people lived. the urban working class came into being, and with it came the drudgery of work. which two parts of this excerpt from franz kafka's the metamorphosis most closely reflect this impact of industrialization on people's lives? "what's happened to me? " he thought. it wasn't a dream. his room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. a collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. it showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. "how about if i sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense," he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn't get into that position. however hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. he must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before. "oh, no", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that i've chosen! travelling day in and day out. doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. they can all go away! " he felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder. he slid back into his former position. "getting up early all the time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. you've got to get enough sleep. other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. for instance, whenever i go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. i ought to just try that with my boss; i'd get kicked out on the spot. but who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. if i didn't have my parents to think about i'd have given in my notice a long time ago, i'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what i think, tell him everything i would, let him know just what i feel."