| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad: because she must have been on the watch for the faintest sound.
"His heart engaged. Like two hundred others, or two thousand, all
around," I mumbled.
"Altogether different. And it's no disparagement to a woman
surely. Of course her great fortune protects her in a certain
measure."
"Does it?" I faltered out and that time I really doubt whether she
heard me. Her aspect in my eyes had changed. Her purpose being
disclosed, her well-bred ease appeared sinister, her aristocratic
repose a treacherous device, her venerable graciousness a mask of
unbounded contempt for all human beings whatever. She was a
The Arrow of Gold |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Europeans by Henry James: she made Eugenia feel grateful that she herself was not like that--
neither so ill, nor, possibly, so modest. On a chair, beside her,
lay a volume of Emerson's Essays. It was a great occasion for poor
Mrs. Acton, in her helpless condition, to be confronted with a clever
foreign lady, who had more manner than any lady--any dozen ladies--
that she had ever seen.
"I have heard a great deal about you," she said, softly, to the Baroness.
"From your son, eh?" Eugenia asked. "He has talked to me immensely
of you. Oh, he talks of you as you would like," the Baroness declared;
"as such a son must talk of such a mother!"
Mrs. Acton sat gazing; this was part of Madame Munster's "manner."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Whirligigs by O. Henry: won't take me back home again, Snake-eye, will you?"
"Not right away," says I. "We'll stay here in the
cave a while."
"All right!" says he. "That'll be fine. I never had
such fun in all my life."
We went to bed about eleven o'clock. We spread down
some wide blankets and quilts and put Red Chief between
us. We weren't afraid he'd run away. He kept us
awake for three hours, jumping up and reaching for his
rifle and screeching: "Hist! pard," in mine and Bill's
ears, as the fancied crackle of a twig or the rustle of a
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