| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Pupil by Henry James: been treated like Zenobie."
"Do you take me for the biggest dunce you've known?" Morgan asked.
"Haven't I been conscious of what we've been through together?"
"What we've been through?"
"Our privations - our dark days."
"Oh our days have been bright enough."
Morgan went on in silence for a moment. Then he said: "My dear
chap, you're a hero!"
"Well, you're another!" Pemberton retorted.
"No I'm not, but I ain't a baby. I won't stand it any longer. You
must get some occupation that pays. I'm ashamed, I'm ashamed!"
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister: look at this Western country. Frank, he thought dry-goods was good enough
for him, and so we're both satisfied, I expect. And that's a lot of years
now. Whoop ye!" he suddenly sang out, and fired his six-shooter at a
jack-rabbit, who strung himself out flat and flew over the earth.
Both dismounted at the parade-ground gate, and he kissed her again when
she was not looking, upon which she very properly slapped him; and he
took the horses to the stable. He sat down to tea at the hotel, and found
the meal consisted of black potatoes, gray tea, and a guttering dish of
fat pork. But his appetite was good, and he remarked to himself that
inside the first hour he was in Boston he would have steamed Duxbury
clams. Of Sabina he never thought again, and it is likely that she found
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Call of the Canyon by Zane Grey: fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in the feel of the
bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur of the waterfall. She
fell asleep. When she awakened it was five o'clock. The fire in the stove
was out, but the water was still warm. She bathed and dressed, not without
care, yet as swiftly as was her habit at home; and she wore white because
Glenn had always liked her best in white. But it was assuredly not a gown
to wear in a country house where draughts of cold air filled the unheated
rooms and halls. So she threw round her a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful
bars becoming to her dark eyes and hair.
All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be
permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of
The Call of the Canyon |
