| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: mangled. Now I must add that some were incised and subtracted
from in the most curious, cold-blooded, and inhuman fashion. It
was the same with dogs and men. All the healthier, fatter bodies,
quadrupedal or bipedal, had had their most solid masses of tissue
cut out and removed, as by a careful butcher; and around them
was a strange sprinkling of salt - taken from the ravaged provision
chests on the planes - which conjured up the most horrible associations.
The thing had occurred in one of the crude aeroplane shelters
from which the plane had been dragged out, and subsequent winds
had effaced all tracks which could have supplied any plausible
theory. Scattered bits of clothing, roughly slashed from the human
At the Mountains of Madness |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Main Street by Sinclair Lewis: doc?"
"You bet," agreed Kennicott.
The conversation was at last relieved of the plague of Carol's
intrusions and they settled down to the question of whether
the justice of the peace had sent that hobo drunk to jail for
ten days or twelve. It was a matter not readily determined.
Then Dave Dyer communicated his carefree adventures on the
gipsy trail:
"Yep. I get good time out of the flivver. 'Bout a week
ago I motored down to New Wurttemberg. That's forty-
three---- No, let's see: It's seventeen miles to Belldale, and
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Modeste Mignon by Honore de Balzac: personally as like me as a waiting-woman is like her mistress?
Have we changed roles? Have I the sense? have you the fancy? But a
truce with jesting.
Your letter has made me know the elating pleasures of the soul;
the first that I have known outside of my family affections. What,
says a poet, are the ties of blood which are so strong in ordinary
minds, compared to those divinely forged within us by mysterious
sympathies? Let me thank you--no, we must not thank each other for
such things--but God bless you for the happiness you have given
me; be happy in the joy you have shed into my soul. You explain to
me some of the apparent injustices in social life. There is
Modeste Mignon |
