| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: ideas together during this headlong race, which seemed like a
vertical descent. To judge by the air which was whistling past me and
made a whizzing in my ears, we were moving faster than the fastest
express trains. To light a torch under these' conditions would have
been impossible; and our last electric apparatus had been shattered
by the force of the explosion.
I was therefore much surprised to see a clear light shining near me.
It lighted up the calm and unmoved countenance of Hans. The skilful
huntsman had succeeded in lighting the lantern; and although it
flickered so much as to threaten to go out, it threw a fitful light
across the awful darkness.
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Deputy of Arcis by Honore de Balzac: something of a gallant, had been on close terms for several years with
the miller's sister. Well, the likeness must be striking, for after
dinner, while we were taking our coffee, the worthy Goussard, whose
head was a little warmed by the fumes of wine, came up to Sallenauve
and asked him whether he was certain he had made no mistake about his
father, and could honestly declare that Danton had nothing to do with
his making.
Sallenauve took the matter gaily, and answered arithmetically,--
"Danton died April 5, 1794. To be his son, I must have been born no
later than January, 1795, which would make me forty-four years old
to-day. But the register of my birth, and I somewhat hope my face,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov: from the Foundling Hospital and bring it up on the bottle. They
give me a rouble and a half a month."
"Oh. . . ."
Again a silence. From the strip that had been reaped floated a
soft song which broke off at the very beginning. It was too hot
to sing.
"They say you have put up a new hut for Akulina," said Pelagea.
Yegor did not speak.
"So she is dear to you. . . ."
"It's your luck, it's fate!" said the huntsman, stretching. "You
must put up with it, poor thing. But good-bye, I've been
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