| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: sticks. Well, if it was to be done, I had better do it at once.
Already my hand was creeping towards the pocket when a new idea, or
rather two ideas, struck me.
The first was that if I shot Dingaan the Zulus would probably massacre
Marie and the others--Marie, whose sweet face I should never see again.
The second was that while there is life there is hope. Perhaps, after
all, he had not sent for an executioner, but for someone else. I would
wait. A few minutes more of existence were worth the having.
The shield-bearer returned, emerging from one of the narrow, reed-hedged
passages, and after him came no executioner, but a young white man, who,
as I knew from the look of him, was English. He saluted the king by
Marie |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Passion in the Desert by Honore de Balzac: such a point as to be certain of their affection for----"
"What seems to you a problem," said I, interrupting, "is really quite
natural."
"Oh!" she cried, letting an incredulous smile wander over her lips.
"You think that beasts are wholly without passions?" I asked her.
"Quite the reverse; we can communicate to them all the vices arising
in our own state of civilization."
She looked at me with an air of astonishment.
"But," I continued, "the first time I saw M. Martin, I admit, like
you, I did give vent to an exclamation of surprise. I found myself
next to an old soldier with the right leg amputated, who had come in
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Touchstone by Edith Wharton: "What are you laughing at?" she asked.
He explained, elaborately, that he was laughing at the
recollection of an old woman in the train, an old woman with a lot
of bundles, who couldn't find her ticket. . . . But somehow, in
the telling, the humor of the story seemed to evaporate, and he
felt the conventionality of her smile. He glanced at his watch,
"Isn't it time to dress?"
She rose with serene reluctance. "It's a pity to go in. The
garden looks so lovely."
They lingered side by side, surveying their domain. There was not
space in it, at this hour, for the shadow of the elm-tree in the
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