| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Enchanted Island of Yew by L. Frank Baum: lash your tail?"
"Ah, I can't do that!" replied the Dragon. "It's all stiffened up
with rheumatism from the dampness of my cave. It hurts too much to
lash it."
"Well, then, gnash your teeth!" commanded the king.
"Tut--tut!" answered the Dragon, mildly; "I can't do that, either; for
since you had them so beautifully carved it makes my teeth ache to
gnash them."
"Well, then, what are you good for?" cried the king, in a fury.
"Don't I look awful? Am I not terrible to gaze on?" inquired the
Dragon, proudly, as it breathed out red and yellow flames and made
The Enchanted Island of Yew |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Salammbo by Gustave Flaubert: which were laden with rings of excessive weight, upon their heads.
From ankle to hip she was covered with a network of narrow meshes
which were in imitation of fish scales, and shone like mother-of-
pearl; her waist was clasped by a blue zone, which allowed her breasts
to be seen through two crescent-shaped slashings; the nipples were
hidden by carbuncle pendants. She had a headdress made of peacock's
feathers studded with gems; an ample cloak, as white as snow, fell
behind her,--and with her elbows at her sides, her knees pressed
together, and circles of diamonds on the upper part of her arms, she
remained perfectly upright in a hieratic attitude.
Her father and her husband were on two lower seats, Narr' Havas
Salammbo |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Jungle by Upton Sinclair: chatters--while above all the deafening clamor Cousin Marija shouts orders
to the musicians.
The musicians--how shall one begin to describe them? All this time they
have been there, playing in a mad frenzy--all of this scene must be read,
or said, or sung, to music. It is the music which makes it what it is;
it is the music which changes the place from the rear room of a saloon
in back of the yards to a fairy place, a wonderland, a little comer of
the high mansions of the sky.
The little person who leads this trio is an inspired man. His fiddle is
out of tune, and there is no rosin on his bow, but still he is an inspired
man--the hands of the muses have been laid upon him. He plays like one
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