| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes: How severely Cervantes was wounded may be inferred from the fact,
that with youth, a vigorous frame, and as cheerful and buoyant a
temperament as ever invalid had, he was seven months in hospital at
Messina before he was discharged. He came out with his left hand
permanently disabled; he had lost the use of it, as Mercury told him
in the "Viaje del Parnaso" for the greater glory of the right. This,
however, did not absolutely unfit him for service, and in April 1572
he joined Manuel Ponce de Leon's company of Lope de Figueroa's
regiment, in which, it seems probable, his brother Rodrigo was
serving, and shared in the operations of the next three years,
including the capture of the Goletta and Tunis. Taking advantage of
Don Quixote |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Call of the Canyon by Zane Grey: from the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch she saw
that Mrs. Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, with strong face
full of fine wavy lines, and kind dark eyes.
"I'm Miss Burch," said Carley.
"You're the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace,"
declared the woman, heartily. "I'm sure glad to meet you, an' my daughter
Flo will be, too."
That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. "Yes, I'm Glenn
Kilbourne's fiancee. I've come West to surprise him. Is he here. . . . Is--
is he well?"
"Fine. I saw him yesterday. He's changed a great deal from what he was at
The Call of the Canyon |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Death of the Lion by Henry James: presence of universal fate; the sunny stillness took no pity, and
my thought, as I was sure Paraday's was doing, performed within the
minute a great distant revolution. I saw just how emphatic I
should make my rejoinder to Mr. Pinhorn, and that having come, like
Mr. Morrow, to betray, I must remain as long as possible to save.
Not because I had brought my mind back, but because our visitors
last words were in my ear, I presently enquired with gloomy
irrelevance if Guy Walsingham were a woman.
"Oh yes, a mere pseudonym - rather pretty, isn't it? - and
convenient, you know, for a lady who goes in for the larger
latitude. 'Obsessions, by Miss So-and-so,' would look a little
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