| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Falk by Joseph Conrad: the Diana, stretched as taut as a harpstring,
vibrated alarmingly.
The high black craft careened over to the awful
strain. A loud crack came out of her, followed by
the tearing and splintering of wood. "There!"
said the awed voice in my ear. "He's carried away
their towing chock." And then, with enthusiasm,
"Oh! Look! Look! sir, Look! at them Dutchmen
skipping out of the way on the forecastle. I hope
to goodness he'll break a few of their shins before
he's done with 'em."
Falk |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson: permission?"
"Without?" cried the indignant Leon. "Permit me to remind you - "
"Come, come, sir!" said the Commissary, "I desire no explanations."
"I care nothing about what you desire," returned the singer. "I
choose to give them, and I will not be gagged. I am an artist,
sir, a distinction that you cannot comprehend. I received your
permission and stand here upon the strength of it; interfere with
me who dare."
"You have not got my signature, I tell you," cried the Commissary.
"Show me my signature! Where is my signature?"
That was just the question; where was his signature? Leon
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Professor by Charlotte Bronte: draught drawn from waters said to flow only in heaven?
I was at the door; I entered the quiet house; I mounted the
stairs; the lobby was void and still, all the doors closed; I
looked for the neat green mat; it lay duly in its place.
"Signal of hope!" I said, and advanced. "But I will be a little
calmer; I am not going to rush in, and get up a scene directly."
Forcibly staying my eager step, I paused on the mat.
"What an absolute hush! Is she in? Is anybody in?" I demanded
to myself. A little tinkle, as of cinders falling from a grate,
replied; a movement--a fire was gently stirred; and the slight
rustle of life continuing, a step paced equably backwards and
The Professor |
