| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Village Rector by Honore de Balzac: perhaps no penance can atone for it. But the more humiliation I submit
to here on earth, the less I may have to dread the wrath of God in the
heavenly kingdom to which I am going. My father, who had great
confidence in me, commended to my care (now twenty years ago) a son of
this parish, in whom he had seen a great desire to improve himself, an
aptitude for study, and fine characteristics. I mean the unfortunate
Jean-Francois Tascheron, who thenceforth attached himself to me as his
benefactress. How did the affection I felt for him become a guilty
one? I think myself excused from explaining this. Perhaps it could be
shown that the purest sentiments by which we act in this world were
insensibly diverted from their course by untold sacrifices, by reasons
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Silas Marner by George Eliot: summat better than hitting, and you try to throw a stone beyond.
What I said was against the tinder-box: I said nothing against
justices and constables, for they're o' King George's making, and it
'ud be ill-becoming a man in a parish office to fly out again' King
George."
While these discussions were going on amongst the group outside the
Rainbow, a higher consultation was being carried on within, under
the presidency of Mr. Crackenthorp, the rector, assisted by Squire
Cass and other substantial parishioners. It had just occurred to
Mr. Snell, the landlord--he being, as he observed, a man
accustomed to put two and two together--to connect with the
Silas Marner |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: and then I pilgrim it into this God-forsaken land and find myself
an effeminate Athenian without the simplest rudiments of manhood!"
He hunched up to the fire and rolled a cigarette. "Oh, I'm not
whining. I can take my medicine all right, all right; but I'm
just decently ashamed of myself, that's all. Here I am, on top of
a dirty thirty miles, as knocked up and stiff and sore as a pink-
tea degenerate after a five-mile walk on a country turn-pike.
Bah! It makes me sick! Got a match?" "Don't git the tantrums,
youngster." Bettles passed over the required fire-stick and waxed
patriarchal. "Ye've gotter 'low some for the breakin'-in.
Sufferin' cracky! don't I recollect the first time I hit the
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