| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells: It was the wantonness of it that stirred me.
Had Moreau had any intelligible object, I could have sympathised at
least a little with him. I am not so squeamish about pain as that.
I could have forgiven him a little even, had his motive been only hate.
But he was so irresponsible, so utterly careless! His curiosity,
his mad, aimless investigations, drove him on; and the Things were
thrown out to live a year or so, to struggle and blunder and suffer,
and at last to die painfully. They were wretched in themselves;
the old animal hate moved them to trouble one another; the Law held
them back from a brief hot struggle and a decisive end to their
natural animosities.
The Island of Doctor Moreau |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Cruise of the Jasper B. by Don Marquis: each, which they were to introduce into the hold of the Jasper
B., retiring through the tunnel after they had started the
clockwork mechanism going. It was known that one of them owed
the other money; they had been quarreling about it as they
entered the tunnel from the cellar of Morris's. It was
conjectured that the quarrel had progressed and that the debtor
had endeavored, by the light of his pocket lantern in the tunnel,
to palm off a counterfeit bill in settlement of the debt. This
may have led to a blow, or more likely only to an argument during
which a bomb was dropped and exploded, followed quickly by the
other explosion. Dead hand, counterfeit bill and ring were flung
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum: tone; "because, if one is going to talk, it's best to talk correctly.
The red rooster has often said that my cluck and my cackle were quite
perfect; and now it's a comfort to know I am talking properly."
"I'm beginning to get hungry," remarked Dorothy. "It's breakfast
time; but there's no breakfast."
"You may have my egg," said the yellow hen. "I don't care for it,
you know."
"Don't you want to hatch it?" asked the little girl, in surprise.
"No, indeed; I never care to hatch eggs unless I've a nice snug nest,
in some quiet place, with a baker's dozen of eggs under me. That's
thirteen, you know, and it's a lucky number for hens. So you may as
Ozma of Oz |
