| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Market-Place by Harold Frederic: seemed to carry the suggestion that by silence she could
best protect her daughter's interests.
"I don't believe you know any more about it than I do,"
was his impulsive comment.
"I daresay not," she replied, with indifference.
"Probably she didn't fancy living in so big a house--
although heaven knows her ideas are big enough about
most things."
"Did she say so?" Thorpe asked abruptly.
The widow shook her head with dispassionate candour.
"She didn't say anything to me about it, one way or the other.
The Market-Place |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Out of Time's Abyss by Edgar Rice Burroughs: to it. It was an arduous and gruesome job extricating Tippet's
mangled remains from the powerful jaws, the men working for the
most part silently.
"It was the work of the banshee all right," muttered Brady.
"It warned poor Tippet, it did."
"Hit killed him, that's wot hit did, hand hit'll kill some more
of us," said James, his lower lip trembling.
"If it was a ghost," interjected Sinclair, "and I don't say as it
was; but if it was, why, it could take on any form it wanted to.
It might have turned itself into this thing, which ain't no
natural thing at all, just to get poor Tippet. If it had of been
Out of Time's Abyss |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: I had no designs upon it--but every one near by, including the woman,
suspected me just the same.
"Hot!" said the conductor to familiar faces. "Some weather! hot! hot! hot!
Is it hot enough for you? Is it hot? Is it . . . ?"
My commutation ticket came back to me with a dark stain from his hand.
That any one should care in this heat whose flushed lips he kissed,
whose head made damp the pajama pocket over his heart!
. . . Through the hall of the Buchanans' house blew a faint wind,
carrying the sound of the telephone bell out to Gatsby and me as we
waited at the door.
"The master's body!" roared the butler into the mouthpiece. "I'm sorry,
The Great Gatsby |
