| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tono Bungay by H. G. Wells: to serve him at Wimblehurst. "The Home, George," he said,
"wants straightening up. Silly muddle! Things that get in the
way. Got to organise it."
For a time he displayed something like the zeal of a genuine
social reformer in relation to these matters.
"We've got to bring the Home Up to Date? That's my idee, George.
We got to make a civilised domestic machine out of these relics
of barbarism. I'm going to hunt up inventors, make a corner in
d'mestic ideas. Everything. Balls of string that won't dissolve
into a tangle, and gum that won't dry into horn. See? Then
after conveniences--beauty. Beauty, George! All these few
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from From London to Land's End by Daniel Defoe: and in a handsome part of the ground mentioned to be laid out for
streets, as near the centre as might be, was to be ground laid out
for the building a church, which every man should either contribute
to the building of in money, or give every tenth day of his time to
assist in labouring at the building.
I have omitted many tradesmen who would be wanted here, and would
find a good livelihood among their country-folks only to get
accidental work as day-men or labourers (of which such a town would
constantly employ many), as also poor women for assistance in
families (such as midwives, nurses, &c.).
Adjacent to the town was to be a certain quantity of common-land
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Dead Souls by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol: could tackle nothing without some accident occurring. At one moment
would he crack some one's fingers in half, and at another would he
raise a bump on somebody's nose; so that both at home and abroad every
one and everything--from the serving-maid to the yard-dog--fled on his
approach, and even the bed in his bedroom became shattered to
splinters. Such was Mofi Kifovitch; and with it all he had a kindly
soul. But herein is not the chief point. "Good sir, good Kifa
Mokievitch," servants and neighbours would come and say to the father,
"what are you going to do about your Moki Kifovitch? We get no rest
from him, he is so above himself." "That is only his play, that is
only his play," the father would reply. "What else can you expect? It
 Dead Souls |