| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Glinda of Oz by L. Frank Baum: dangerous, Ozma. P'raps we'd better stayed at home."
Finally the upstairs-and-downstairs passage seemed
coming to an end, for daylight again appeared ahead of
the two girls and Ozma replaced her wand in the bosom
of her gown. The last ten steps brought them to the
surface, where they found themselves surrounded by
such a throng of queer people that for a time they
halted, speechless, and stared into the faces that
confronted them.
Dorothy knew at once why these mountain people were
called Flatheads. Their heads were really flat on top,
Glinda of Oz |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An Old Maid by Honore de Balzac: proclamations printed to return to the principles of the Montagne in
case the First Consul succumbed.
Convinced of the impossibility of Bonaparte's triumph, du Bousquier
staked the greater part of his property on a fall in the Funds, and
kept two couriers on the field of battle. The first started for Paris
when Melas' victory was certain; the second, starting four hours
later, brought the news of the defeat of the Austrians. Du Bousquier
cursed Kellermann and Desaix; he dared not curse Bonaparte, who might
owe him millions. This alternative of millions to be earned and
present ruin staring him in the face, deprived the purveyor of most of
his faculties: he became nearly imbecile for several days; the man had
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Mucker by Edgar Rice Burroughs: would have ended the fight had it landed--but the man side-stepped
it, and Billy's momentum carried him sprawling upon
his face. When he regained his feet the "white hope" was
waiting for him, and Billy went down again to lie there, quite
still, while the hand of the referee marked the seconds: One.
Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Billy opened his eyes. Seven.
Billy sat up. Eight. The meaning of that monotonous count
finally percolated to the mucker's numbed perceptive faculties.
He was being counted out! Nine! Like a flash he was on his
feet. He had forgotten the crowd. Rage--cool, calculating rage
possessed him--not the feverish, hysterical variety that takes
The Mucker |
