| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe: of strong scent to have ready, in case I met with anything of offensive
smells or went too near any burying-place or dead body.
Neither did I do what I know some did: keep the spirits always high
and hot with cordials and wine and such things; and which, as I
observed, one learned physician used himself so much to as that he
could not leave them off when the infection was quite gone, and so
became a sot for all his life after.
I remember my friend the doctor used to say that there was a certain
set of drugs and preparations which were all certainly good and useful
in the case of an infection; out of which, or with which, physicians
might make an infinite variety of medicines, as the ringers of bells
A Journal of the Plague Year |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Salammbo by Gustave Flaubert: order that he might live the longer; to put out his eyes, so that he
might see the torture through; to hurl anything against his person, or
to lay more than three fingers upon him at a time.
Although he was not to appear until the end of the day, the people
sometimes fancied that he could be seen, and the crowd would rush
towards the Acropolis, and empty the streets, to return with
lengthened murmurings. Some people had remained standing in the same
place since the day before, and they would call on one another from a
distance and show their nails which they had allowed to grow, the
better to bury them into his flesh. Others walked restlessly up and
down; some were as pale as though they were awaiting their own
Salammbo |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Wyoming by William MacLeod Raine: spurs clicking.
Helen turned fiercely on her guest. "Why did you make me insist
on your staying? As if I want you here, as if--" She stopped,
choking with anger; presently flamed out, "I hate you," and ran
from the room to hide herself alone with her tears and her shame.
CHAPTER 14. FOR THE WORLD'S CHAMPIONSHIP
The scene on which Helen Messiter's eyes rested that mellow
Fourth of July was vivid enough to have interested a far more
jaded mind than hers. Nowhere outside of Cattleland could it have
been duplicated. Wyoming is sparsely populated, but the riders of
the plains think nothing of traveling a hundred miles in the
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