| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: taciturn, for him, and let me do most of the talking.
We opened the front gate of the Carter place and went slowly up the
walk. Two ragged youngsters, alike even to freckles and squints,
were playing in the yard.
"Is your mother around?" I asked.
"In the front room. Walk in," they answered in identical tones.
As we got to the porch we heard voices, and stopped. I knocked,
but the people within, engaged in animated, rather one-sided
conversation, did not answer.
"'In the front room. Walk in,'" quoted McKnight, and did so.
In the stuffy farm parlor two people were sitting. One, a
The Man in Lower Ten |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Mansion by Henry van Dyke: old house in Sussex, pure Elizabethan, and all the old customs
are
kept up, too--family prayers every morning for all the domestics.
By-the-way, you know his son Bertie, I believe."
Harold smiled a little to himself as he answered: "Yes, I fished
at
Catalina Island last June with the Honorable Ethelbert;
he's rather a decent chap, in spite of his ingrowing mind.
But you?--mother, you are simply magnificent! You are
father's masterpiece." The young man leaned over to kiss her,
and went up to the Riding Club for his afternoon canter in the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner: "No."
"I thought not. No one does, unless they are in need of a subject upon
which to show their wit. And as for you, from of old you can see nothing
that is not separated from you by a few millions of miles, and strewed over
with mystery. If women were the inhabitants of Jupiter, of whom you had
happened to hear something, you would pore over us and our condition night
and day; but because we are before your eyes you never look at us. You
care nothing that this is ragged and ugly," she said, putting her little
finger on his sleeve; "but you strive mightily to make an imaginary leaf on
an old stick beautiful. I'm sorry you don't care for the position of
women; I should have liked us to be friends; and it is the only thing about
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