| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Professor by Charlotte Bronte: "My sight was always too weak to endure a blaze, Frances," and we
had now reached the wicket.
I said, a few pages back, that this is a sweet summer evening; it
is--there has been a series of lovely days, and this is the
loveliest; the hay is just carried from my fields, its perfume
still lingers in the air. Frances proposed to me, an hour or two
since, to take tea out on the lawn; I see the round table, loaded
with china, placed under a certain beech; Hunsden is expected
--nay, I hear he is come--there is his voice, laying down the law
on some point with authority; that of Frances replies; she
opposes him of course. They are disputing about Victor, of whom
The Professor |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Rescue by Joseph Conrad: suppose for a moment, that, like herself, he was emptied of all
emotion. She never before was so aware of him as a dangerous
force. "He is really ruthless," she thought. They had just left
the shadow of the inner defences about the gate when a slightly
hoarse, apologetic voice was heard behind them repeating
insistently, what even Mrs. Travers' ear detected to be a sort of
formula. The words were: "There is this thing--there is this
thing--there is this thing." They turned round.
"Oh, my scarf," said Mrs. Travers.
A short, squat, broad-faced young fellow having for all costume a
pair of white drawers was offering the scarf thrown over both his
The Rescue |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dawn O'Hara, The Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber: the back they were quite open to the shop, and in one of
them reposed a huge, white, immovable structure--a
majestic, heavy, nutty, surely indigestible birthday
cake. Around its edge were flutings and scrolls of white
icing, and on its broad breast reposed cherries, and
stout butterflies of jelly, and cunning traceries of
colored sugar. It was quite the dressiest cake I had
ever beheld. Surely no human hand could be wanton enough
to guide a knife through all that magnificence. But in
the center of all this splendor was an inscription in
heavy white letters of icing: "Charlottens
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