| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen: the conclusion of every imaginary declaration on his side was that she
refused him. Their affection was always to subside into friendship.
Every thing tender and charming was to mark their parting;
but still they were to part. When she became sensible of this,
it struck her that she could not be very much in love; for in spite
of her previous and fixed determination never to quit her father,
never to marry, a strong attachment certainly must produce more
of a struggle than she could foresee in her own feelings.
"I do not find myself making any use of the word sacrifice," said she.--
"In not one of all my clever replies, my delicate negatives,
is there any allusion to making a sacrifice. I do suspect that he
Emma |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw: brain is simply blue-mouldy. Lets argue about something intellectual.
_[He throws himself into the wicker chair on Johnny's right]._
JOHNNY. _[straightening up in the swing with a yell of protest]_ No.
Now seriously, Bunny, Ive come down here to have a pleasant week-end;
and I'm not going to stand your confounded arguments. If you want to
argue, get out of this and go over to the Congregationalist
minister's. He's a nailer at arguing. He likes it.
BENTLEY. You cant argue with a person when his livelihood depends on
his not letting you convert him. And would you mind not calling me
Bunny. My name is Bentley Summerhays, which you please.
JOHNNY. Whats the matter with Bunny?
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson: smile; and as for the Commissary, he simply bade the singer follow
him to his office, and directed his proud footsteps towards the
door. There was nothing for it but to obey. Leon did so with a
proper pantomime of indifference, but it was a leek to eat, and
there was no denying it.
The Maire had slipped out and was already waiting at the
Commissary's door. Now the Maire, in France, is the refuge of the
oppressed. He stands between his people and the boisterous rigours
of the Police. He can sometimes understand what is said to him; he
is not always puffed up beyond measure by his dignity. 'Tis a
thing worth the knowledge of travellers. When all seems over, and
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