| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: "But what are you going to do to repay us for the past?"
inquired the man who had before spoken, and who seemed to be
a baker or miller. "Will you replace the grown flour we've
still got by sound grain?"
Henchard's face had become still more stern at these
interruptions, and he drank from his tumbler of water as if
to calm himself or gain time. Instead of vouchsafing a
direct reply, he stiffly observed--
"If anybody will tell me how to turn grown wheat into
wholesome wheat I'll take it back with pleasure. But it
can't be done."
The Mayor of Casterbridge |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The King of the Golden River by John Ruskin: shadows and lurid lights played and floated about and through the
pale blue pinnacles, dazzling and confusing the sight of the
traveler, while his ears grew dull and his head giddy with the
constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. These painful
circumstances increased upon him as he advanced; the ice crashed and
yawned into fresh chasms at his feet, tottering spires nodded around
him and fell thundering across his path; and though he had
repeatedly faced these dangers on the most terrific glaciers and in
the wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling of
panic terror that he leaped the last chasm and flung himself,
exhausted and shuddering, on the firm turf of the mountain.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Straight Deal by Owen Wister: Have you never been mistaken for a waiter, or something of that sort?
Perhaps you will have heard the anecdote about one of our ambassadors to
England. All ambassadors, save ours, wear on formal occasions a
distinguishing uniform, just as our army and navy officers do; it is
convenient, practical, and saves trouble. But we have declared it menial,
or despotic, or un-American, or something equally silly, and hence our
ambassadors must wear evening dress resembling closely the attire of
those who are handing the supper or answering the door-bell. An
Englishman saw Mr. Choate at some diplomatic function, standing about in
this evening costume, and said:
"Call me a cab."
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