| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Turn of the Screw by Henry James: smooth aspect. There was nothing in her fresh face to pass
on to others my horrible confidences. She believed me,
I was sure, absolutely: if she hadn't I don't know what would
have become of me, for I couldn't have borne the business alone.
But she was a magnificent monument to the blessing of a want
of imagination, and if she could see in our little charges nothing
but their beauty and amiability, their happiness and cleverness,
she had no direct communication with the sources of my trouble.
If they had been at all visibly blighted or battered, she would
doubtless have grown, on tracing it back, haggard enough
to match them; as matters stood, however, I could feel her,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Weir of Hermiston by Robert Louis Stevenson: instance, who could have imagined that, not a month after he had
received the letter, and turned it into mockery, and put off answering
it, and in the end lost it, misfortunes of a gloomy cast should begin to
thicken over Frank's career? His case may be briefly stated. His
father, a small Morayshire laird with a large family, became
recalcitrant and cut off the supplies; he had fitted himself out with
the beginnings of quite a good law library, which, upon some sudden
losses on the turf, he had been obliged to sell before they were paid
for; and his bookseller, hearing some rumour of the event, took out a
warrant for his arrest. Innes had early word of it, and was able to
take precautions. In this immediate welter of his affairs, with an
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Dunwich Horror by H. P. Lovecraft: whence the low whining came. For a second nobody dared to turn
on the light, then Armitage summoned up his courage and snapped
the switch. One of the three - it is not certain which - shrieked
aloud at what sprawled before them among disordered tables and
overturned chairs. Professor Rice declares that he wholly lost
consciousness for an instant, though he did not stumble or fall.
The thing that lay half-bent on its side in a foetid pool of
greenish-yellow ichor and tarry stickiness was almost nine feet
tall, and the dog had torn off all the clothing and some of the
skin. It was not quite dead, but twitched silently and spasmodically
while its chest heaved in monstrous unison with the mad piping
The Dunwich Horror |
