| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Foolish Virgin by Thomas Dixon: little park with its splashing fountain that she had
refused to follow her landlady uptown when the
brownstone boarding-house facing the Square had been
turned into a studio building.
Instead of moving she had wheedled the landlord
into allowing her to cut off a small space from her
room for a private bath and kitchenette, built a box
couch across the window large enough for a three-
quarter mattress and covered it with velour. For five
dollars a week she had thus secured a little home in
which was combined a sitting-room, bed-room, bath and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Human Drift by Jack London: NED. You must.
LORETTA. [Floundering.] He . . . I . . . we . . . I let him,
and he kissed me.
NED. [Desperately, controlling himself.] Go on.
LORETTA. He says eight, but I can't think of more than five
times.
NED. Yes, go on.
LORETTA. That's all.
NED. [With vast incredulity.] All?
LORETTA. [Puzzled.] All?
NED. [Awkwardly.] I mean . . . er . . . nothing worse?
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: two-legged creature. She has never seen your resigned smile when
the little two-legged creature, interrogated, sternly, "What are
you doing to the good dog?" answers, with a wide, innocent stare:
"Nothing. Only loving him, mamma dear!"
The general's daughter does not know the secret terms of
self-imposed tasks, good dog, the pain that may lurk in the very
rewards of rigid self-command. But we have lived together many
years. We have grown older, too; and though our work is not
quite done yet we may indulge now and then in a little
introspection before the fire--meditate on the art of bringing up
babies and on the perfect delight of writing tales where so many
A Personal Record |
