| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: rigid, extended body looked shadowy too, shadowy and alive. You
know he always carried himself as stiff as a poker. We stood by the
cot as though waiting for him to make us a sign that he wanted to be
left alone. The captain threw his arm over my shoulder and said in
my very ear: "The steward'll find him in the morning."
"I made no answer. It was for him to say. It was perhaps the best
way. It's no use talking about my thoughts. They were not
concerned with myself, nor yet with that old man who terrified me
more now than when he was alive. Him whom I pitied was the captain.
He whispered. "I am certain of you, Mr. Powell. You had better go
on deck now. As to me . . . " and I saw him raise his hands to his
Chance |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Two Poets by Honore de Balzac: herself with Lucien; she was too proud, too high-born, to stoop to the
apothecary's son. The role of incredulity was in accordance with the
plan which he had laid down, for he wished to appear as Mme. de
Bargeton's champion. Stanislas de Chandour held that Mme. de Bargeton
had not been cruel to her lover, and Amelie goaded them to argument,
for she longed to know the truth. Each stated his case, and (as not
unfrequently happens in small country towns) some intimate friends of
the house dropped in in the middle of the argument. Stanislas and
Chatelet vied with each other in backing up their opinions by
observations extremely pertinent. It was hardly to be expected that
the champions should not seek to enlist partisans. "What do you
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Light of Western Stars by Zane Grey: heavy flannel shirt, wet through with perspiration, adhered
closely to his shoulders and arms, so that every ripple of muscle
plainly showed. His face was black, except round the temples and
forehead, where it was bright red. Drops of sweat, running off
his blackened hands dripped to the ground. He got up from
examining the lame foot, and then threw off the saddle. The black
horse snorted and lunged for the watering-pool. Stewart let him
drink a little, then with iron arms dragged him away. In this
action the man's lithe, powerful form impressed Madeline with a
wonderful sense of muscular force. His brawny wrist was bare;
his big, strong hand, first clutching the horse's mane, then
The Light of Western Stars |
