| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: dropped. For a moment there was silence, then a wild howl went up
and a flight of bone arrows fell short.
"I'd like to take a look at the beggar," Bill remarked, throwing a
fresh shell into place. "I'll swear I drilled him clean between
the eyes."
"Didn't work." Stockard shook his head gloomily. Baptiste had
evidently quelled the more warlike of his followers, and instead
of precipitating an attack in the bright light of day, the shot
had caused a hasty exodus, the Indians drawing out of the village
beyond the zone of fire.
In the full tide of his proselyting fervor, borne along by the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Macbeth by William Shakespeare: At first and last, the hearty welcome
Lords. Thankes to your Maiesty
Macb. Our selfe will mingle with Society,
And play the humble Host:
Our Hostesse keepes her State, but in best time
We will require her welcome
La. Pronounce it for me Sir, to all our Friends,
For my heart speakes, they are welcome.
Enter first Murtherer.
Macb. See they encounter thee with their harts thanks
Both sides are euen: heere Ile sit i'th' mid'st,
Macbeth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Young Forester by Zane Grey: Still I pocketed the extra money which I had assured him he need not spend
for the first-class ticket.
The huge station, with its glaring lights and clanging bells, and the
outspreading city, soon gave place to prairie land.
That night I slept little, but the very time I wanted to be awake--when we
crossed the Mississippi--I was slumbering soundly, and so missed it.
"I'll bet I don't miss it coming back," I vowed.
The sight of the Missouri, however, somewhat repaid me for the loss. What a
muddy, wide river! And I thought of the thousands of miles of country it
drained, and of the forests there must be at its source. Then came the
never-ending Kansas corn-fields. I do not know whether it was their length
The Young Forester |
