| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: tender words that were sweet to the ear of the Indian maiden. Have you
forgotten them?"
"I have not forgotten them. I am not without feeling. You do not understand.
Since I have been home this last time, I have realized more than ever that I
could not live away from my home."
"Is there any maiden in your old home whom you have learned to love more than
Myeerah?"
He did not reply, but looked gloomily out of the opening in the wall. Myeerah
had placed her hold upon his arm, and as he did not answer the hand tightened
its grasp.
"She shall never have you."
Betty Zane |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Westward Ho! by Charles Kingsley: had not his shrewd scratch to show. And indeed, Mr. Oxenham's
party had once gotten within the barricades, but the Spaniards
being sheltered by the tree trunks (and especially by one mighty
tree, which stood as I remembered it, and remember it now, borne up
two fathoms high upon its own roots, as it were upon arches and
pillars), shot at them with such advantage, that they had several
slain, and seven more taken alive, only among the roots of that
tree. So seeing that they could prevail nothing, having little but
their pikes and swords, they were fain to give back; though Mr.
Oxenham swore he would not stir a foot, and making at the Spanish
captain was borne down with pikes, and hardly pulled away by some,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: beside them and came fairly among the tombs. Here, at least,
there were no commonplace politics, no diluted this-morning's
leader, to distract or offend me. The old shabby church
showed, as usual, its quaint extent of roofage and the
relievo skeleton on one gable, still blackened with the fire
of thirty years ago. A chill dank mist lay over all. The
Old Greyfriars' churchyard was in perfection that morning,
and one could go round and reckon up the associations with no
fear of vulgar interruption. On this stone the Covenant was
signed. In that vault, as the story goes, John Knox took
hiding in some Reformation broil. From that window Burke the
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