| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell: to be serious about the war, told outrageous lies to make the girls
laugh and brought to the bare and looted house the first lightness,
the first hint of festivity it had known in many a day.
"It's almost like the old days when we had house parties, isn't
it?" whispered Suellen happily to Scarlett. Suellen was raised to
the skies by having a beau of her own in the house again and she
could hardly take her eyes off Frank Kennedy. Scarlett was
surprised to see that Suellen could be almost pretty, despite the
thinness which had persisted since her illness. Her cheeks were
flushed and there was a soft luminous look in her eyes.
"She really must care about him," thought Scarlett in contempt.
Gone With the Wind |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from St. Ives by Robert Louis Stevenson: had not known. The devil was in it if a soldier had not a right to
the best in England. And with that sentiment, which was loudly
applauded, I found a corner of a bench, and awaited, with some
hopes of entertainment, the return of the hero. He proved, of
course, to be a private soldier. I say of course, because no
officer could possibly enjoy such heights of popularity. He had
been wounded before San Sebastian, and still wore his arm in a
sling. What was a great deal worse for him, every member of the
company had been plying him with drink. His honest yokel's
countenance blazed as if with fever, his eyes were glazed and
looked the two ways, and his feet stumbled as, amidst a murmur of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: minutes I was in bed, with that good woman piling on blankets
and blistering me in unprotected places with hot-water bottles.
And in an hour I had a whiff of chloroform and Doctor
Williams had set the broken bone.
I dropped asleep then, waking in the late twilight to a realization
that I was at home again, without the papers that meant conviction
for Andy Bronson, with a charge of murder hanging over my head, and
with something more than an impression of the girl my best friend
was in love with, a girl moreover who was almost as great an enigma
as the crime itself.
"And I'm no hand at guessing riddles," I groaned half aloud. Mrs.
The Man in Lower Ten |
