| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Lone Star Ranger by Zane Grey: who's lived along the Texas border remembers a lot about your
Dad. It was expected of you, I reckon, an' much of your rep was
established before you thronged your gun. I jest heerd thet you
was lightnin' on the draw, an' when you cut loose with a gun,
why the figger on the ace of spades would cover your cluster of
bullet-holes. Thet's the word thet's gone down the border. It's
the kind of reputation most sure to fly far an' swift ahead of
a man in this country. An' the safest, too; I'll gamble on
thet. It's the land of the draw. I see now you're only a boy,
though you're shore a strappin' husky one. Now, Buck, I'm not a
spring chicken, an' I've been long on the dodge. Mebbe a little
The Lone Star Ranger |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Master of the World by Jules Verne: could not intend to stop at Buffalo, in the midst of a crowd of boats
and shipping of every kind. If he meant to leave the lake by water,
there Was only the Niagara River to follow; and its Falls would be
impassable, even to such a machine as this. The only escape was by
the Detroit River, and the "Terror" was constantly leaving that
farther behind.
Then another idea occurred to me. Perhaps the captain was only
waiting for night to return to the shore of the lake. There, the
boat, changed to an automobile, would quickly cross the neighboring
States. If I did not succeed in making my escape, during this passage
across the land, all hope of regaining my liberty would be gone.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan by Honore de Balzac: they are as happy as they were the first day. These long attachments,
like that of Rastignac and Madame de Nucingen, and your cousin, Madame
de Camps, for her Octave, have a secret, and that secret you and I
don't know, my dear. The world has paid us the extreme compliment of
thinking we are two rakes worthy of the court of the regent; whereas
we are, in truth, as innocent as a couple of school-girls."
"I should like that sort of innocence," cried the princess, laughing;
"but ours is worse, and it is very humiliating. Well, it is a
mortification we offer up in expiation of our fruitless search; yes,
my dear, fruitless, for it isn't probable we shall find in our autumn
season the fine flower we missed in the spring and summer."
|
