| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from War and the Future by H. G. Wells: war on land. War by these developments has become the monopoly
of the five great industrial powers; it is their alternative to
end or evolve it, and if they continue to disagree, then it must
needs become a spectacle of majestic horror such as no man can
yet conceive. It has been wise of Mr. Pennell therefore, who has
recently been drawing his impressions of the war upon stone, to
make his pictures not upon the battlefield, but among the huge
industrial apparatus that is thrusting behind and thrusting up
through the war of the gentlemen in spurs. He gives us the
splendours and immensities of forge and gun pit, furnace and mine
shaft. He shows you how great they are and how terrible. Among
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Out of Time's Abyss by Edgar Rice Burroughs: near to that of Fosh-bal-soj back to her own country."
The thing rose in wrath, holding one of its swords above its head.
"Who are you to make terms for Him Who Speaks for Luata?"
it shrilled. "Tell me the secret or die where you stand!"
"And if I die now, the secret goes with me," Bradley reminded him.
"Never again will you get the opportunity to question another of
my kind who knows the secret." Anything to gain time, to get the
rest of the Wieroos from the room, that he might plan some scheme
for escape and put it into effect.
The creature turned upon the leader of the party that had
brought Bradley.
Out of Time's Abyss |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Second Home by Honore de Balzac: children have not strength to cry, they were silent when I went up."
Horace Bianchon stood still. Just then the Comte de Granville, in
spite of himself, as it were, had put his hand into his waistcoat
pocket.
"I can guess, my young friend, how it is that she is yet alive if you
attend her," said the elder man.
"O poor soul!" cried the doctor, "who could refuse to help her? I only
wish I were richer, for I hope to cure her of her passion."
"But how can you expect me to pity a form of misery of which the joys
to me would seem cheaply purchased with my whole fortune!" exclaimed
the Count, taking his hand out of his pocket empty of the notes which
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