| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad: I said, mildly.
He actually had the impudence, or else so forgot himself in his wonder
at such an incomprehensible order, as to repeat:
"Open the quarter-deck ports! What for, sir?"
"The only reason you need concern yourself about is because I tell you
to do so. Have them open wide and fastened properly."
He reddened and went off, but I believe made some jeering remark
to the carpenter as to the sensible practice of ventilating
a ship's quarter-deck. I know he popped into the mate's cabin
to impart the fact to him because the whiskers came on deck,
as it were by chance, and stole glances at me from below--
The Secret Sharer |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg by Mark Twain: "The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's
broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; NOTHING has
happened--it is an insolvable mystery."
There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days,
wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out
for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of
the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately
into his hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday
evening," then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting
that there might be one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however,
Goodson being dead--but it never occurred to him that all this crowd
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Two Brothers by Honore de Balzac: and the countess is now in the mud. The girl, bred in the country, has
a strong constitution. I don't know what means Philippe has lately
taken to get rid of her. I am anxious to study this precious little
drama, for I am determined to avenge Joseph here. Alas, friends," he
added, in a tone which left his three companions in doubt whether he
was jesting or speaking seriously, "give a man over to a vice and
you'll get rid of him. Didn't Hugo say: 'She loved a ball, and died of
it'? So it is. My grandmother loved the lottery. Old Rouget loved a
loose life, and Lolotte killed him. Madame Bridau, poor woman, loved
Philippe, and perished of it. Vice! vice! my dear friends, do you want
to know what vice is? It is the Bonneau of death."
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