| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adam Bede by George Eliot: towards his pony. But it was impossible for him to get away
immediately, for John was walking the pony up and down the yard,
and was some distance from the causeway when his master beckoned.
"You may run away from my words, sir, and you may go spinnin'
underhand ways o' doing us a mischief, for you've got Old Harry to
your friend, though nobody else is, but I tell you for once as
we're not dumb creatures to be abused and made money on by them as
ha' got the lash i' their hands, for want o' knowing how t' undo
the tackle. An' if I'm th' only one as speaks my mind, there's
plenty o' the same way o' thinking i' this parish and the next to
't, for your name's no better than a brimstone match in
Adam Bede |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Merry Men by Robert Louis Stevenson: dancing in his veins. At last he spoke.
'I shall telegraph for Casimir,' he said. 'Good Casimir! a fellow
of the lower order of intelligence, Jean-Marie, distinctly not
creative, not poetic; and yet he will repay your study; his fortune
is vast, and is entirely due to his own exertions. He is the very
fellow to help us to dispose of our trinkets, find us a suitable
house in Paris, and manage the details of our installation.
Admirable Casimir, one of my oldest comrades! It was on his
advice, I may add, that I invested my little fortune in Turkish
bonds; when we have added these spoils of the mediaeval church to
our stake in the Mahometan empire, little boy, we shall positively
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Silverado Squatters by Robert Louis Stevenson: pendicle of Silverado mine, we held to be an outlying
province of our own. Thither, then, we went, crossing the
valley by a grassy trail; and there lunched out of the
basket, sitting in a kind of portico, and wondering, while we
ate, at this great bulk of useless building. Through a chink
we could look far down into the interior, and see sunbeams
floating in the dust and striking on tier after tier of
silent, rusty machinery. It cost six thousand dollars,
twelve hundred English sovereigns; and now, here it stands
deserted, like the temple of a forgotten religion, the busy
millers toiling somewhere else. All the time we were there,
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