| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs: fugitive's great foot, and Tarzan knows instinctively where
that same foot would touch in the next stride. Here he looks
to find a tiny particle of the demolished larva, ofttimes not
more than a speck of moisture.
Again, a minute bit of bark has been upturned by the
scraping hand, and the direction of the break indicates the
direction of the passage. Or some great limb, or the stem of the
tree itself has been brushed by the hairy body, and a tiny
shred of hair tells him by the direction from which it is
wedged beneath the bark that he is on the right trail.
Nor does he need to check his speed to catch these seemingly
Tarzan of the Apes |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy: "Still better!" returned Mrs. Edlin cheerfully. "Before you are upstairs
again your husband will be well enough--don't 'ee trouble."
They turned, and came to some old, dun-tiled cottages with gardens
and fruit-trees. Into one of these they entered by lifting the latch
without knocking, and were at once in the general living-room. Here they
greeted Jude, who was sitting in an arm-chair, the increased delicacy
of his normally delicate features, and the childishly expectant look
in his eyes, being alone sufficient to show that he had been passing
through a severe illness.
"What--you have sold them all?" he said, a gleam of interest lighting
up his face.
Jude the Obscure |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Man against the Sky by Edwin Arlington Robinson: Forbore to fever the ephemeral,
Found any barren height a good retreat
From any swarming street,
And in the sun saw power superbly wasted;
And when the primitive old-fashioned stars
Came out again to shine on joys and wars
More primitive, and all arrayed for doom,
He may have proved a world a sorry thing
In his imagining,
And life a lighted highway to the tomb.
Or, mounting with infirm unsearching tread,
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