| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton by Edith Wharton: voice startling me with a sudden echo. The dogs stood
motionless, watching me. I knew by this time that they would not
try to prevent my approaching the house, and the knowledge left
me free to examine them. I had a feeling that they must be
horribly cowed to be so silent and inert. Yet they did not look
hungry or ill-treated. Their coats were smooth and they were not
thin, except the shivering greyhound. It was more as if they had
lived a long time with people who never spoke to them or looked
at them: as though the silence of the place had gradually
benumbed their busy inquisitive natures. And this strange
passivity, this almost human lassitude, seemed to me sadder than
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne: while nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air with a penetrating perfume.
Agile and grinning bands of monkeys skipped about in the trees, nor were tigers
wanting in the jungles.
After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg
returned to the town, which is a vast collection of heavy-looking,
irregular houses, surrounded by charming gardens rich in tropical fruits
and plants; and at ten o'clock they re-embarked, closely followed by
the detective, who had kept them constantly in sight.
Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen mangoes--
a fruit as large as good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour
outside and a bright red within, and whose white pulp, melting in
Around the World in 80 Days |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen: but Catherine could not believe it possible that any injury
or any misfortune could provoke such ill will against
a person not connected, or, at least, not supposed to be
connected with it.
Heavily passed the night. Sleep, or repose that
deserved the name of sleep, was out of the question.
That room, in which her disturbed imagination had tormented
her on her first arrival, was again the scene of agitated
spirits and unquiet slumbers. Yet how different now the
source of her inquietude from what it had been then--how
mournfully superior in reality and substance! Her anxiety
Northanger Abbey |
