| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie: expression of fear swept over the group. Each man seemed eyeing
his neighbour doubtfully.
The Russian tapped his cheek.
"So be it. Let us proceed."
The German seemed to pull himself together. He indicated the
place he had been occupying at the head of the table. The Russian
demurred, but the other insisted.
"It is the only possible place," he said, "for--Number One.
Perhaps Number Fourteen will shut the door?"
In another moment Tommy was once more confronting bare wooden
panels, and the voices within had sunk once more to a mere
Secret Adversary |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Democracy In America, Volume 2 by Alexis de Toqueville: progenitors, but to strive to work out that species of greatness
and happiness which is our own. For myself, who now look back
from this extreme limit of my task, and discover from afar, but
at once, the various objects which have attracted my more
attentive investigation upon my way, I am full of apprehensions
and of hopes. I perceive mighty dangers which it is possible to
ward off - mighty evils which may be avoided or alleviated; and I
cling with a firmer hold to the belief, that for democratic
nations to be virtuous and prosperous they require but to will
it. I am aware that many of my contemporaries maintain that
nations are never their own masters here below, and that they
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Scenes from a Courtesan's Life by Honore de Balzac: plain terms that you defy all the police in the world to discover his
jewel. Take care to destroy your traces.
"When the Baron gives you a right to tap him on the stomach, and call
him a pot-bellied old rip, you may be as insolent as you please, and
make him trot like a footman."
Nucingen--threatened by Asie with never seeing her again if he
attempted the smallest espionage--met the woman on his way to the
Bourse, in secret, in a wretched entresol in the Rue Nueve-Saint-Marc.
How often, and with what rapture, have amorous millionaires trodden
these squalid paths! the pavements of Paris know. Madame de Saint-
Esteve, by tossing the Baron from hope to despair by turns, brought
|
