| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: devil. He laughed at me and my pride. I didn't dare shut the
door in his face. After a while he found out that your mother
loved me and that I loved her. Then he began to threaten me.
If I didn't give in to him he'd see she learned the truth. That
made me weaken. It nearly killed me. I simply could not bear
the thought of Mrs. Gale kowing. But I couldn't marry him. Besides,
he got so half the time, when he was drunk, he didn't want or ask
me to be his wife. I was about ready to give up and go mad when
you--you came home."
She ended in a whisper, looking up wistfully and sadly at him.
Belding was a raging fire within, cold without. He watched Gale,
Desert Gold |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Fisherman's Luck by Henry van Dyke: satisfaction, while he reels in his slack line, of saying to his
friend, "Well, old man, I did everything just as you told me. But I
think if I had pushed that fish a little harder at the beginning, AS
I WANTED TO, I might have saved him."
But really, of course, the chances were all against it. In such a
pool, most of the larger fish get away. Their weight gives them a
tremendous pull. The fish that are stopped from going into the
rapid, and dragged back from the curling wave, are usually the
smaller ones. Here they are,--twelve pounds, eight pounds, six
pounds, five pounds and a half, FOUR POUNDS! Is not this the
smallest salmon that you ever saw? Not a grilse, you understand,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Prince of Bohemia by Honore de Balzac: a Bohemian; he would unbend at a supper-party. He went out to all
appearance to a rehearsal at the Opera-Comique, and found himself in
some unaccountable way at Dieppe, or Baden, or Saint-Germain; he gave
dinners, led the Titanic thriftless life of artists, journalists, and
writers; levied his tribute on all the greenrooms of Paris; and, in
short, was one of us. Finot, Lousteau, du Tillet, Desroches, Bixiou,
Blondet, Couture, and des Lupeaulx tolerated him in spite of his
pedantic manner and ponderous official attitude. But once married,
Tullia made a slave of du Bruel. There was no help for it. He was in
love with Tullia, poor devil.
" 'Tullia' (so he said) 'had left the stage to be his alone, to be a
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