| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson: of castaways upon an unknown coast, the party landed at the mouth
of Gruinard river. A shooting lodge was spied among the trees;
there Fleeming went; and though the master, Mr. Murray, was from
home, though the two Jenkin boys were of course as black as
colliers, and all the castaways so wetted through that, as they
stood in the passage, pools formed about their feet and ran before
them into the house, yet Mrs. Murray kindly entertained them for
the night. On the morrow, however, visitors were to arrive; there
would be no room and, in so out-of-the-way a spot, most probably no
food for the crew of the PURGLE; and on the morrow about noon, with
the bay white with spindrift and the wind so strong that one could
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Riverman by Stewart Edward White: new campaign opening before it. Orde, returning to Lansing after a
trip devoted to the carrying out of Newmark's directions as to
finances, was dismayed at the tangle of strategy and cross-strategy,
innuendo, vague and formless cobweb forces by which he was
surrounded. He could make nothing of them. They brushed his face,
he felt their influence, yet he could place his finger on no
tangible and comprehensible solidity. Among these delicate and
complicated cross-currents Newmark moved silent, cold, secret. He
seemed to understand them, to play with them, to manipulate them as
elements of the game. Above them was the hollow shock of the
ostensible battle--the speeches, the loud talk in lobbies, the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: stretched downward into valleys, and onward to other
uplands, dotted with barrows, and trenched with the remains
of prehistoric forts. The whole scene lay under the rays of
a newly risen sun, which had not as yet dried a single blade
of the heavily dewed grass, whereon the shadows of the
yellow and red vans were projected far away, those thrown by
the felloe of each wheel being elongated in shape to the
orbit of a comet. All the gipsies and showmen who had
remained on the ground lay snug within their carts and tents
or wrapped in horse-cloths under them, and were silent and
still as death, with the exception of an occasional snore
The Mayor of Casterbridge |
