| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey: sand-storms were but vagaries of the desert-wind. Before the hour closed
he had to seek the cover of a stone and wait for another to pass. Then
he was caught in the open, with not a shelter in sight. He was compelled
to turn his back to a third storm, the worst of all, and to bear as best
he could the heavy impact of the first blow, and the succeeding rush and
flow of sand. After that his head drooped and he wearily trudged beside
Silvermane, dreading the interminable distance he must cover before once
more gaining hard ground. But he discovered that it was useless to try
to judge distance on the desert. What had appeared miles at his last
look turned out to be only rods.
It was good to get into the saddle again and face clear air. Far away
The Heritage of the Desert |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Passion in the Desert by Honore de Balzac: dagger, then taking the precautions to provide himself with a sack of
dried dates, oats, and powder and shot, and to fasten a scimiter to
his waist, he leaped on to a horse, and spurred on vigorously in the
direction where he thought to find the French army. So impatient was
he to see a bivouac again that he pressed on the already tired courser
at such speed, that its flanks were lacerated with his spurs, and at
last the poor animal died, leaving the Frenchman alone in the desert.
After walking some time in the sand with all the courage of an escaped
convict, the soldier was obliged to stop, as the day had already
ended. In spite of the beauty of an Oriental sky at night, he felt he
had not strength enough to go on. Fortunately he had been able to find
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Ursula by Honore de Balzac: hand on arriving, but he knew he would ask no kiss when alone with
her, so deeply did the lover respect the innocence, the frankness of
the young girl, whose excessive sensibility, often tried, taught him
that a harsh word, a cold look, or the alternations of gentleness and
roughness might kill her. The only freedom between the two took place
before the eyes of the old man in the evenings.
Two years, full of secret happiness, passed thus,--without other
events than the fruitless efforts made by the young man to obtain from
his mother her consent to his marriage. He talked to her sometimes for
hours together. She listened and made no answer to his entreaties,
other than by Breton silence or a positive denial.
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