| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: desires like men. We come out into the world, some of us--"
She paused. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean
nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression.
"Women are mocked," she said. "Whenever they try to take hold of
life a man intervenes."
She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. She wished
she had not stood up. She wondered wildly why she had stood up.
No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. "Think of the
mockery!" she said. "Think how dumb we find ourselves and
stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. . . . Have
you ever tried to run and jump in petticoats, Mr. Capes? Well,
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Land that Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: When she recognized me, she immediately turned away.
"I want to thank you," I said, "for your bravery and loyalty--you
were magnificent. I am sorry that you had reason before to think
that I doubted you."
"You did doubt me," she replied in a level voice. "You practically
accused me of aiding Baron von Schoenvorts. I can never forgive you."
There was a great deal of finality in both her words and tone.
"I could not believe it," I said; "and yet two of my men reported
having seen you in conversation with von Schoenvorts late at
night upon two separate occasions--after each of which some great
damage was found done us in the morning. I didn't want to doubt
The Land that Time Forgot |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: adorned the head of but one chief--Wingenund, the sachem of the Delawares. A
British officer, girdled and epauletted, stood next to Wingenund. Simon Girty,
the renegade, and Miller, the traitor, completed the group.
Wetzel sank to his knees. The perspiration poured from his face. The mighty
hunter trembled, but it was from eagerness. Was not Girty, the white savage,
the bane of the poor settlers, within range of a weapon that never failed? Was
not the murderous chieftain, who had once whipped and tortured him, who had
burned Crawford alive, there in plain sight? Wetzel revelled a moment in
fiendish glee. He passed his hands tenderly over the long barrel of his rifle.
In that moment as never before he gloried in his power--a power which enabled
him to put a bullet in the eye of a squirrel at the distance these men were
Betty Zane |
