| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ursula by Honore de Balzac: written with fire, and said, "There is his doom." When her uncle lay
down again in his grave Ursula heard the sound of the stone falling
back into its place, and immediately after, in the distance, a strange
sound of horses and the cries of men.
The next day Ursula was prostrate. She could not rise, so terribly had
the dream overcome her. She begged her nurse to find the Abbe Chaperon
and bring him to her. The good priest came as soon as he had said
mass, but he was not surprised at Ursula's revelation. He believed the
robbery had been committed, and no longer tried to explain to himself
the abnormal condition of his "little dreamer." He left Ursula at once
and went directly to Minoret's.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Virginian by Owen Wister: barrin' that lost cook. So for the present his point is made, yu'
see. But look ahead a little. It may not be so very far ahead
yu'll have to look. We get back to the ranch. He's not boss there
any more. His responsibility is over. He is just one of us again,
taking orders from a foreman they tell me has showed partiality
to Trampas more'n a few times. Partiality! That's what Trampas is
plainly trusting to. Trusting it will fix him all right and fix
his enemy all wrong. He'd not otherwise dare to keep sour like
he's doing. Partiality! D' yu' think it'll scare off the enemy?"
Scipio looked across a little creek to where the Virginian was
helping threw the gathered cattle on the bedground. "What odds
The Virginian |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Under the Red Robe by Stanley Weyman: fallen outside; the noise in the street grew less. The firelight
began to glow and flicker on the walls, and the wretched room to
look as homely as it was in its nature to look. I was pondering
for the twentieth time what step I should take next, and
questioning why the soldiers were here, and whether I should let
the night pass before I moved, when the door, which had been
turning on its hinges almost without pause for an hour, opened
again, and a woman came in.
She paused a moment on the threshold looking round, and I saw
that she had a shawl on her head and a milk-pitcher in her hand,
and that her feet and ankles were bare. There was a great rent
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