| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes: clothes him in a shirt of the softest sendal, all scented and
perfumed, while another damsel comes and throws over his shoulders a
mantle which is said to be worth at the very least a city, and even
more? How charming it is, then, when they tell us how, after all this,
they lead him to another chamber where he finds the tables set out
in such style that he is filled with amazement and wonder; to see
how they pour out water for his hands distilled from amber and
sweet-scented flowers; how they seat him on an ivory chair; to see how
the damsels wait on him all in profound silence; how they bring him
such a variety of dainties so temptingly prepared that the appetite is
at a loss which to select; to hear the music that resounds while he is
Don Quixote |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The New Machiavelli by H. G. Wells: Hatherleigh at the serious treatment of so obsolete a matter, we
weighed the reasons, if any, for the institution of marriage. The
fine dim night-time spaces of the Great Court are bound up with the
inconclusive finales of mighty hot-eared wrangles; the narrows of
Trinity Street and Petty Cury and Market Hill have their particular
associations for me with that spate of confession and free speech,
that almost painful goal delivery of long pent and crappled and
sometimes crippled ideas.
And we went on a reading party that Easter to a place called
Pulborough in Sussex, where there is a fishing inn and a river that
goes under a bridge. It was a late Easter and a blazing one, and we
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Light of Western Stars by Zane Grey: road appeared to become more clearly defined, and could be seen
striking straight across the valley.
To Madeline's dismay, that road led down to a deep, narrow wash.
It plunged on one side, ascended on the other at a still steeper
angle. The crossing would have been laborsome for a horse; for
an automobile it was unpassable. Link turned the car to the
right along the rim and drove as far along the wash as the ground
permitted. The gully widened, deepened all the way. Then he
took the other direction. When he made this turn Madeline
observed that the sun had perceptibly begun its slant westward.
It shone in her face, glaring and wrathful. Link drove back to
The Light of Western Stars |
