| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from One Basket by Edna Ferber: a moment. Then she turned quickly, went into the house, and shut
the door.
It was about this time we noticed that Blanche Devine was away
much of the time. The little white cottage would be empty for
weeks. We knew she was out of town because the expressman would
come for her trunk. We used to lift our eyebrows significantly.
The newspapers and handbills would accumulate in a dusty little
heap on the porch; but when she returned there was always a grand
cleaning, with the windows open, and Blanche--her head bound
turbanwise in a towel--appearing at a window every few minutes to
shake out a dustcloth. She seemed to put an enormous amount of
One Basket |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Crowd by Gustave le Bon: with a handful of men in laying hands on the ancient kingdom of
Naples, defended though it was by a disciplined army.
Still, though the energy of leaders of this class is a force to
be reckoned with, it is transitory, and scarcely outlasts the
exciting cause that has brought it into play. When they have
returned to their ordinary course of life the heroes animated by
energy of this description often evince, as was the case with
those I have just cited, the most astonishing weakness of
character. They seem incapable of reflection and of conducting
themselves under the simplest circumstances, although they had
been able to lead others. These men are leaders who cannot
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad: That was the reflection that made you creepy all over.
It was impossible--it was not good for one either--trying to imagine.
He had taken a high seat amongst the devils of the land--
I mean literally. You can't understand. How could you?--
with solid pavement under your feet, surrounded by kind neighbours
ready to cheer you or to fall on you, stepping delicately between
the butcher and the policeman, in the holy terror of scandal and
gallows and lunatic asylums--how can you imagine what particular
region of the first ages a man's untrammelled feet may take him
into by the way of solitude--utter solitude without a policeman--
by the way of silence--utter silence, where no warning voice
Heart of Darkness |
