| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: thing a ghost might be," and he hung us up again for a time, while
he sought for matches in his pocket and lit and warmed to his cigar.
"I took an advantage," he reflected at last.
We were none of us in a hurry. "A character," he said, "remains
just the same character for all that it's been disembodied. That's
a thing we too often forget. People with a certain strength or
fixity of purpose may have ghosts of a certain strength and fixity
of purpose--most haunting ghosts, you know, must be as one-idea'd
as monomaniacs and as obstinate as mules to come back again and again.
This poor creature wasn't." He suddenly looked up rather queerly, and
his eye went round the room. "I say it," he said, "in all kindliness,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Camille by Alexandre Dumas: her death, more perhaps than it was worth thinking over. I
remembered having often met Marguerite in the Bois, where she
went regularly every day in a little blue coupe drawn by two
magnificent bays, and I had noticed in her a distinction quite
apart from other women of her kind, a distinction which was
enhanced by a really exceptional beauty.
These unfortunate creatures whenever they go out are always
accompanied by somebody or other. As no man cares to make himself
conspicuous by being seen in their company, and as they are
afraid of solitude, they take with them either those who are not
well enough off to have a carriage, or one or another of those
Camille |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Off on a Comet by Jules Verne: that had overwhelmed the earth.
On the 9th of February the _Dobryna_ passed over the site of the city of Dido,
the ancient Byrsa--a Carthage, however, which was now more completely
destroyed than ever Punic Carthage had been destroyed by Scipio Afri-canus
or Roman Carthage by Hassan the Saracen.
In the evening, as the sun was sinking below the eastern horizon,
Captain Servadac was lounging moodily against the taffrail.
From the heaven above, where stars kept peeping fitfully from behind
the moving clouds, his eye wandered mechanically to the waters below,
where the long waves were rising and falling with the evening breeze.
All at once, his attention was arrested by a luminous speck straight ahead
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