| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: it was down nearer the Circus, or round the corner in Oxford Street,
or even in Holborn; always over the way and a little inaccessible
it had been, with something of the mirage in its position; but here
it was now quite indisputably, and the fat end of Gip's pointing
finger made a noise upon the glass.
"If I was rich," said Gip, dabbing a finger at the Disappearing Egg,
"I'd buy myself that. And that"--which was The Crying Baby, Very Human
--and that," which was a mystery, and called, so a neat card asserted,
"Buy One and Astonish Your Friends."
"Anything," said Gip, "will disappear under one of those cones.
I have read about it in a book.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Tin Woodman of Oz by L. Frank Baum: and I see no reason why you should object to him. You
two gentlemen threw him away when you became tin,
because you had no further use for him, so you cannot
justly claim him now. I advise you to go back to your
own homes and forget me, as I have forgotten you."
"Good advice!" laughed Polychrome, dancing.
"Are you happy?" asked the Tin Soldier.
"Of course I am," said Nimmie Amee; "I'm the mistress
of all I survey -- the queen of my little domain."
"Wouldn't you like to be the Empress of the Winkies?"
asked the Tin Woodman.
The Tin Woodman of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte: She then turned to give her orders to the footman, who had been
standing bolt upright within the door for the last half minute, and
had heard the latter part of her animadversions; and, of course,
made his own reflections upon them, notwithstanding the inflexible,
wooden countenance he thought proper to preserve in the drawing-
room. On my remarking afterwards that he must have heard her, she
replied - 'Oh, no matter! I never care about the footmen; they're
mere automatons: it's nothing to them what their superiors say or
do; they won't dare to repeat it; and as to what they think - if
they presume to think at all - of course, nobody cares for that.
It would be a pretty thing indeed, it we were to be tongue-tied by
Agnes Grey |
