| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: they stayed, no one knew; it was enough that they were there,
like a sort of ancestral fixture to the street. The
neighbourhood was fine enough to look down upon these two
tumble-down shops at the corner, kept by Tony and Mrs. Murphy,
the grocer. It was a semi-fashionable locality, far up-town,
away from the old-time French quarter. It was the sort of
neighbourhood where millionaires live before their fortunes are
made and fashionable, high-priced private schools flourish, where
the small cottages are occupied by aspiring school-teachers and
choir-singers. Such was this locality, and you must admit that
it was indeed a condescension to tolerate Tony and Mrs. Murphy.
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell: telegraph poles until they looked like giant corkscrews. These
days it was so hard to replace iron rails, to replace anything made
of iron.
No, the Yankees hadn't gotten to Tara. The same courier who
brought the dispatches to General Hood assured Scarlett of that.
He had met Gerald in Jonesboro after the battle, just as he was
starting to Atlanta, and Gerald had begged him to bring a letter to
her.
But what was Pa doing in Jonesboro? The young courier looked ill
at ease as he made answer. Gerald was hunting for an army doctor
to go to Tara with him.
Gone With the Wind |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Prince of Bohemia by Honore de Balzac: telling me those things! What interest lay in those few words! You
have taken thought for that thing belonging to you called
Claudine? /This/ imbecile would never have opened my eyes; he
thinks that everything I do is right; and besides, he is much too
humdrum, too matter-of-fact to have any feeling for the beautiful.
" 'Tuesday is very slow of coming for my impatient mind! On
Tuesday I shall be with you for several hours. Ah! when it comes I
will try to think that the hours are months, that it will be so
always. I am living in hope of that morning now, as I shall live
upon the memory of it afterwards. Hope is memory that craves; and
recollection, memory sated. What a beautiful life within life
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