| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Last War: A World Set Free by H. G. Wells: This educational committee was, and is, the correlative upon the
mental and spiritual side of the redistribution committee. And
prominent upon it, and indeed for a time quite dominating it, was
a Russian named Karenin, who was singular in being a congenital
cripple. His body was bent so that he walked with difficulty,
suffered much pain as he grew older, and had at last to undergo
two operations. The second killed him. Already malformation,
which was to be seen in every crowd during the middle ages so
that the crippled beggar was, as it were, an essential feature of
the human spectacle, was becoming a strange thing in the world.
It had a curious effect upon Karenin's colleagues; their feeling
The Last War: A World Set Free |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry: fire. At the same time the rest of the posse, divided, shelled him
from two side streets up which they were cautiously manoeuvring from a
well-executed detour.
The first volley broke the lock of one of Calliope's guns, cut a neat
underbit in his right ear, and exploded a cartridge in his crossbelt,
scorching his ribs as it burst. Feeling braced up by this unexpected
tonic to his spiritual depression, Calliope executed a fortissimo note
from his upper register, and returned the fire like an echo. The
upholders of the law dodged at his flash, but a trifle too late to
save one of the deputies a bullet just above the elbow, and the
marshal a bleeding cheek from a splinter that a ball tore from the box
Heart of the West |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: faithfully. It was truly wonderful. Now and then Annette would
say to papa as if to reassure herself,--
"And when Monsieur Cherbart says I am ready to go to Paris, I may
go, papa?"
And papa would say a "Certainly" that would send her back to the
piano with renewed ardour.
As for Monsieur LeConte, he was the idol of New Orleans. Seldom
had there been a tenor who had sung himself so completely into
the very hearts of a populace. When he was billed, the opera
displayed "Standing Room" signs, no matter what the other
attractions in the city might be. Sometimes Monsieur LeConte
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
