| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tarzan the Untamed by Edgar Rice Burroughs: them, and almost simultaneously she was sure that she
heard the sounds of stealthy movement in the same direction.
"What is that?" she whispered. "There is something out
there in the darkness."
"Yes," replied Tarzan, "it is a lion. It has been there for
some time. Hadn't you noticed it before?"
"Oh!" cried the girl, breathing a sigh of relief, "is it our
lion?"
"No," said Tarzan, "it is not our lion; it is another lion and
he is hunting."
"He is stalking us?" asked the girl.
Tarzan the Untamed |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: Linton, and, from the first, she reported him to be an ailing,
peevish creature.
Mr. Heathcliff, meeting me one day in the village, inquired where
she lived. I refused to tell. He remarked that it was not of any
moment, only she must beware of coming to her brother: she should
not be with him, if he had to keep her himself. Though I would
give no information, he discovered, through some of the other
servants, both her place of residence and the existence of the
child. Still, he didn't molest her: for which forbearance she
might thank his aversion, I suppose. He often asked about the
infant, when he saw me; and on hearing its name, smiled grimly, and
Wuthering Heights |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Vision Splendid by William MacLeod Raine: kissed hollows in her young cheeks. All the bloom of her was gone,
all the brave pride and joy of youth--gone beyond hope of
resurrection. Why must such things be? Why so much to the few, so
little to the many? And why should that little be taken away? He
saw as in a vision the infinite procession of her hopeless sisters
who had traveled the same road, saw them first as sweet and
carefree children bubbling with joy, and again, after the _World_
had misused them for its pleasure, haggard, tawdry, with dragging
steps trailing toward the oblivion that awaited them. Good God,
how long must life be so terribly wasted? How long a bruised and
broken thing instead of the fine, brave adventure for which it was
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