| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: order to explain their presence that evening he remarked simply that
his father-in-law was fond of the theater. The door of the box must
have remained open, for the Marquis de Chouard, who had gone out in
order to leave his seat to the visitors, was back again. He was
straightening up his tall, old figure. His face looked soft and
white under a broad-brimmed hat, and with his restless eyes he
followed the movements of the women who passed.
The moment the countess had given her invitation Fauchery took his
leave, feeling that to talk about the play would not be quite the
thing. La Faloise was the last to quit the box. He had just
noticed the fair-haired Labordette, comfortably installed in the
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair: glasses for ten cents, that was enough for an expedition. On Saturday
night they came home with a great basketful of things, and spread them
out on the table, while every one stood round, and the children climbed
up on the chairs, or howled to be lifted up to see. There were sugar
and salt and tea and crackers, and a can of lard and a milk pail, and a
scrubbing brush, and a pair of shoes for the second oldest boy, and a can
of oil, and a tack hammer, and a pound of nails. These last were to be
driven into the walls of the kitchen and the bedrooms, to hang things on;
and there was a family discussion as to the place where each one was to
be driven. Then Jurgis would try to hammer, and hit his fingers because
the hammer was too small, and get mad because Ona had refused to let him
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Voice of the City by O. Henry: and the crash of dishes on the American plan.
The indeterminate hum of life in the Thalia is
enlivened by the discreet popping -- at reasonable
and salubrious intervals -- of beer-bottle corks.
Thus punctuated, life in the genial hostel scans easily
-- the comma being the favorite mark, semicolons
frowned upon, and periods barred.
Miss D'Armannde's room was a small one. There
was room for her rocker between the dresser and the
wash-stand if it were placed longitudinally. On the
dresser were its usual accoutrements, plus the ex-lead-
 The Voice of the City |