| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy: lead him along.' And with Vasili Andreevich in the sledge he
led the horse by the bridle about ten paces down and then up a
slight rise, and stopped.
The place where Nikita had stopped was not completely in the
hollow where the snow sweeping down from the hillocks might
have buried them altogether, but still it was partly sheltered
from the wind by the side of the ravine. There were moments
when the wind seemed to abate a little, but that did not last
long and as if to make up for that respite the storm swept down
with tenfold vigour and tore and whirled the more fiercely.
Such a gust struck them at the moment when Vasili Andreevich,
Master and Man |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: the sole of his shoe. "All I'm certain of just now is that if there
hadn't been a wreck, by this time you'd be sitting in an eight by
ten cell, and feeling like the rhyme for it."
"But listen to this," I contended, as he picked up his hat, "this
fellow Sullivan is a fugitive, and he's a lot more likely to make
advances to Bronson than to us. We could have the case continued,
release Bronson on bail and set a watch on him."
"Not my watch," McKnight protested. "It's a family heirloom."
"You'd better go home," I said firmly. "Go home and go to bed.
You're sleepy. You can have Sullivan's red necktie to dream over
if you think it will help any."
The Man in Lower Ten |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Enoch Arden, &c. by Alfred Tennyson: Nor deeds of gift, but gifts of grace he forged,
And snakelike slimed his victim ere he gorged;
And oft at Bible meetings, o'er the rest
Arising, did his holy oily best,
Dropping the too rough H in Hell and Heaven,
To spread the Word by which himself had thriven."
How like you this old satire?'
`Nay,' she said
`I loathe it: he had never kindly heart,
Nor ever cared to better his own kind,
Who first wrote satire, with no pity in it.
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