| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Montezuma's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard: lie awake at night, even by the side of Otomie, and remember and
repent, if a man may repent of that over which he has no control.
For I was a stranger in a strange land, and though my home was
there and my children were about me, the longing for my other home
was yet with me, and I could not put away the memory of that Lily
whom I had lost. Her ring was still upon my hand, but nothing else
of her remained to me. I did not know if she were married or
single, living or dead. The gulf between us widened with the
widening years, but still the thought of her went with me like my
shadow; it shone across the stormy love of Otomie, I remembered it
even in my children's kiss. And worst of all I despised myself for
Montezuma's Daughter |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Animal Farm by George Orwell: But if there were hardships to be borne, they were partly offset by the
fact that life nowadays had a greater dignity than it had had before.
There were more songs, more speeches, more processions. Napoleon had
commanded that once a week there should be held something called a
Spontaneous Demonstration, the object of which was to celebrate the
struggles and triumphs of Animal Farm. At the appointed time the animals
would leave their work and march round the precincts of the farm in
military formation, with the pigs leading, then the horses, then the cows,
then the sheep, and then the poultry. The dogs flanked the procession and
at the head of all marched Napoleon's black cockerel. Boxer and Clover
always carried between them a green banner marked with the hoof and the
Animal Farm |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry: an I. & G.N. freight, because Greaser Johnny had told him in Des
Moines that the Alamo City was manna fallen, gathered, cooked, and
served free with cream and sugar. Curly had found the tip partly a
good one. There was hospitality in plenty of a careless, liberal,
irregular sort. But the town itself was a weight upon his spirits
after his experience with the rushing, business-like, systematised
cities of the North and East. Here he was often flung a dollar, but
too frequently a good-natured kick would follow it. Once a band of
hilarious cowboys had roped him on Military Plaza and dragged him
across the black soil until no respectable rag-bag would have stood
sponsor for his clothes. The winding, doubling streets, leading
Heart of the West |
