| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad: to stagger out, walk straight before me, stagger on and on till I
dropped. In the end I lost myself in thought. I woke with a start
to her voice saying positively:
"No. Not even in this room. I can't close my eyes. Impossible.
I have a horror of myself. That voice in my ears. All true. All
true."
She was sitting up, two masses of tawny hair fell on each side of
her tense face. I threw away the pillows from which she had risen
and sat down behind her on the couch. "Perhaps like this," I
suggested, drawing her head gently on my breast. She didn't
resist, she didn't even sigh, she didn't look at me or attempt to
The Arrow of Gold |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Profits of Religion by Upton Sinclair: efforts to dance were not to be watched. And then I went out into
the beautiful English country; cultured and charming ladies took
me in swift, smooth motor-cars, and I saw the pitiful hovels and
the drink-sodden, starch-poisoned inhabitants--slum-populations
everywhere, even on the land! When the newspaper reporters came
to me, I said that I had just come from Germany, and that if ever
England found herself at war with that country, she would regret
that she had let the bodies and the minds of her people rot; for
which expression I was severely taken to task by more than one
British divine.
The bodies--and the minds; the rot of the latter being the cause
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: famous Alexandrian library burnt by Omar and restored by a miracle
from its ashes! just such a crazed enthusiast was my uncle, Professor
Liedenbrock.
But more was to come, when, with a rush through clouds of bone dust,
he laid his hand upon a bare skull, and cried with a voice trembling
with excitement:
"Axel! Axel! a human head!"
"A human skull?" I cried, no less astonished.
"Yes, nephew. Aha! M. Milne-Edwards! Ah! M. de Quatrefages, how I
wish you were standing here at the side of Otto Liedenbrock!"
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
