| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Octopus by Frank Norris: himself face to face with the manufacturer, his wife and his two
daughters.
There was a meeting. Salutations were exchanged, Presley shaking
hands all around, expressing his delight at seeing his old
friends once more, for he had known the family from his boyhood,
Mrs. Cedarquist being his aunt. Mrs. Cedarquist and her two
daughters declared that the air of Los Muertos must certainly
have done him a world of good. He was stouter, there could be no
doubt of it. A little pale, perhaps. He was fatiguing himself
with his writing, no doubt. Ah, he must take care. Health was
everything, after all. Had he been writing any more verse? Every
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Jungle Tales of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs: Tarzan realized now that the blacks were very near
and that there were many of them, so he went silently
and with great caution. Noiselessly he moved through
the lush grasses of the open spaces, and where the forest
was dense, swung from one swaying branch to another,
or leaped lightly over tangled masses of fallen trees
where there was no way through the lower terraces,
and the ground was choked and impassable.
And so presently he came within sight of the black
warriors of Mbonga, the chief. They were engaged in a
pursuit with which Tarzan was more or less familiar,
The Jungle Tales of Tarzan |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson: arms bare to the shoulder, and a red flower set provocatively in
her corset, he repeated to himself for the many hundredth time that
she was one of the loveliest creatures in the world of women.
Alas! when she went round with the tambourine, the golden youth of
Castel-le-Gachis turned from her coldly. Here and there a single
halfpenny was forthcoming; the net result of a collection never
exceeded half a franc; and the Maire himself, after seven different
applications, had contributed exactly twopence. A certain chill
began to settle upon the artists themselves; it seemed as if they
were singing to slugs; Apollo himself might have lost heart with
such an audience. The Berthelinis struggled against the
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