| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson: conduct the SAINT NICOLAS of Creil to a good haven. The thing was
neatly executed, and would have made the delight of a party of boys
on the water-side. But what tickled me was the gravity of the
peril to be conjured. You might hang up the model of a sea-going
ship, and welcome: one that is to plough a furrow round the world,
and visit the tropic or the frosty poles, runs dangers that are
well worth a candle and a mass. But the SAINT NICOLAS of Creil,
which was to be tugged for some ten years by patient draught-
horses, in a weedy canal, with the poplars chattering overhead, and
the skipper whistling at the tiller; which was to do all its
errands in green inland places, and never get out of sight of a
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Breaking Point by Mary Roberts Rinehart: lonely evenings, of the bustle and activity of a family again.
She wanted Wallie to settle down. She was tired of paying his
bills at his clubs and at various hotels, tired and weary of the
days he lay in bed all morning while his valet concocted various
things to enable him to pull himself together. He had been four
years sowing his wild oats, and now at twenty-five she felt he
should be through with them.
The south room could be the nursery.
On Decoration Day, as usual, she did her dutiful best by the
community, sent flowers to the cemetery and even stood through a
chilly hour there while services were read and taps sounded over
The Breaking Point |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: the road-side, and vanished.
'Mr. Heathcliff, it's very wrong,' I continued: 'you know you mean
no good. And there she'll see Linton, and all will be told as soon
as ever we return; and I shall have the blame.'
'I want her to see Linton,' he answered; 'he's looking better these
few days; it's not often he's fit to be seen. And we'll soon
persuade her to keep the visit secret: where is the harm of it?'
'The harm of it is, that her father would hate me if he found I
suffered her to enter your house; and I am convinced you have a bad
design in encouraging her to do so,' I replied.
'My design is as honest as possible. I'll inform you of its whole
Wuthering Heights |
