| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Amy Foster by Joseph Conrad: a hard man at all, but he had room in his brain only
for that one idea of lunacy. He was not imagina-
tive enough to ask himself whether the man might
not be perishing with cold and hunger. Meantime,
at first, the maniac made a great deal of noise in
the lodge. Mrs. Smith was screaming upstairs,
where she had locked herself in her bedroom; but
Amy Foster sobbed piteously at the kitchen door,
wringing her hands and muttering, 'Don't!
don't!' I daresay Smith had a rough time of it
that evening with one noise and another, and this
 Amy Foster |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Christ in Flanders by Honore de Balzac: scattered east and west with ominous speed, a dim uncertain light from
the rift in the sky fell full upon the boat, and the travelers beheld
each other's faces. All of them, the noble and the wealthy, the
sailors and the poor passengers alike, were amazed for a moment by the
appearance of the last comer. His golden hair, parted upon his calm,
serene forehead, fell in thick curls about his shoulders; and his
face, sublime in its sweetness and radiant with divine love, stood out
against the surrounding gloom. He had no contempt for death; he knew
that he should not die. But if at the first the company in the stern
forgot for a moment the implacable fury of the storm that threatened
their lives, selfishness and their habits of life soon prevailed
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber: with a shout and rescue them just before the crash came, and
set them deftly off again in the opposite direction.
"This I must have for my boy in New York." He held up a
miniature hook and ladder. "And this windmill that whirls
so busily. My Leo is seven, and his head is full of
engines, and motors, and things that run on wheels. He
cares no more for music, the little savage, than the son of
a bricklayer."
"Who is that man?" Fanny whispered, staring at him.
"Levine Schabelitz."
"Schabelitz! Not the--"
 Fanny Herself |