| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Passion in the Desert by Honore de Balzac: guard, he slept.
On awakening he could not find Mignonne; he mounted the hill, and in
the distance saw her springing toward him after the habit of these
animals, who cannot run on account of the extreme flexibility of the
vertebral column. Mignonne arrived, her jaws covered with blood; she
received the wonted caress of her companion, showing with much purring
how happy it made her. Her eyes, full of languor, turned still more
gently than the day before toward the Provencal, who talked to her as
one would to a tame animal.
"Ah! mademoiselle, you are a nice girl, aren't you? Just look at that!
So we like to be made much of, don't we? Aren't you ashamed of
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by L. Frank Baum: Australia, haven't you?"
"Yes; with Uncle Henry," she answered. "We got to San Francisco a
week ago, and Uncle Henry went right on to Hugson's Ranch for a visit
while I stayed a few days in the city with some friends we had met."
"How long will you be with us?" he asked.
"Only a day. Tomorrow Uncle Henry and I must start back for Kansas.
We've been away for a long time, you know, and so we're anxious to get
home again."
The boy flicked the big, boney horse with his whip and looked
thoughtful. Then he started to say something to his little companion,
but before he could speak the buggy began to sway dangerously from side
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister: gamesome years," he explained. And he fell into the elemental
talk of sex, such talk as would be an elk's or tiger's; and
spoken so by him, simply and naturally, as we speak of the
seasons, or of death, or of any actuality, it was without
offense. It would be offense should I repeat it. Then, abruptly
ending these memories of himself and Steve, he went out of the
tent, and I heard him dragging a log to the fire. When it had
blazed up, there on the tent wall was his shadow and that of the
log where he sat with his half-broken heart. And all the while I
supposed he was master of himself, and self-justified against
Steve's omission to bid him good-by.
The Virginian |
