| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: He had succeeded in attracting attention; almost every face turned
his way. One of the insulted men, a little tawny fellow, leaped
up to confront Gale, and in a frenzy screamed a volley of Spanish,
of which Gale distinguished "Gringo!" The Mexican stamped and
made a threatening move with his right hand. Dick swung his leg
and with a swift side kick knocked the fellows feet from under
him, whirling him down with a thud.
The action was performed so suddenly, so adroitly, it made the
Mexican such a weakling, so like a tumbled tenpin, that the shrill
jabbering hushed. Gale knew this to be the significant moment.
Wheeling, he rushed at Rojas. It was his old line-breaking plunge.
Desert Gold |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll: Sylvie asked in an awestruck whisper. "If I was as wise as that,
I should have a head-ache all day long. I know I should!"
"You appear to be talking to somebody--that isn't here," the Professor
said, turning round to the children. "Who is it?"
Bruno looked puzzled. "I never talks to nobody when he isn't here!" he
replied. "It isn't good manners. Oo should always wait till he comes,
before oo talks to him!"
The Professor looked anxiously in my direction, and seemed to look
through and through me without seeing me. "Then who are you talking
to?" he said. "There isn't anybody here, you know, except the Other
Professor and he isn't here!" he added wildly, turning round and round
Sylvie and Bruno |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner: The German seized the churn-stick, and was about to rush round the house,
when the Boer-woman impressively laid her hand upon his arm.
"That is his head," said Tant Sannie, "that is his head."
"But what might it be?" asked the German, looking from one to the other,
churn-stick in hand.
A low hollow bellow prevented reply, and the voice of Bonaparte lifted
itself on high.
"Mary-Ann! my angel! my wife!"
"Isn't it dreadful?" said Tant Sannie, as the blows were repeated fiercely.
"He has got a letter; his wife is dead. You must go and comfort him," said
Tant Sannie at last, "and I will go with you. It would not be the thing
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