| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Silas Marner by George Eliot: shut out from its due share of outward activity and of practical
claims on its affections--inevitable to a noble-hearted, childless
woman, when her lot is narrow. "I can do so little--have I done
it all well?" is the perpetually recurring thought; and there are
no voices calling her away from that soliloquy, no peremptory
demands to divert energy from vain regret or superfluous scruple.
There was one main thread of painful experience in Nancy's married
life, and on it hung certain deeply-felt scenes, which were the
oftenest revived in retrospect. The short dialogue with Priscilla
in the garden had determined the current of retrospect in that
frequent direction this particular Sunday afternoon. The first
Silas Marner |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Land that Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: could see it moving toward us filled with officers and men.
The cruiser lay dead ahead. "My," I thought, "what a wonderful targ--"
I stopped even thinking, so surprised and shocked was I by the
boldness of my imagery. The girl was just below me. I looked
down on her wistfully. Could I trust her? Why had she released
me at this moment? I must! I must! There was no other way.
I dropped back below. "Ask Olson to step down here, please,"
I requested; "and don't let anyone see you ask him."
She looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face for the
barest fraction of a second, and then she turned and went up
the ladder. A moment later Olson returned, and the girl
The Land that Time Forgot |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery: Sunday school. You should have been attending to the lesson.
I hope you knew it."
"Oh, yes; and I answered a lot of questions. Miss Rogerson
asked ever so many. I don't think it was fair for her
to do all the asking. There were lots I wanted to ask her,
but I didn't like to because I didn't think she was a kindred
spirit. Then all the other little girls recited a paraphrase.
She asked me if I knew any. I told her I didn't, but I could
recite, `The Dog at His Master's Grave' if she liked.
That's in the Third Royal Reader. It isn't a really truly
religious piece of poetry, but it's so sad and melancholy
Anne of Green Gables |
