| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: it was to be expected. Even Father Ray lingered longer in his
blessing when his hands pressed her silky black hair.
As she entered the parlour, a strange chill swept over the girl.
The room was not an unaccustomed one, for she had swept it many
times, but to-day the stiff black chairs, the dismal crucifixes,
the gleaming whiteness of the walls, even the cheap lithograph of
the Madonna which Camille had always regarded as a perfect
specimen of art, seemed cold and mean.
"Camille, ma chere," said Mother, "I am extremely displeased with
you. Why did you not wish to go with Monsieur and Madame Lafaye
yesterday?"
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer: there was nothing there. Mind you, whatever it was, it hadn't come
in by the front. I have made inquiries everywhere, but without result."
He stopped abruptly. "No. 189--Mr. Guthrie's door, sir."
Smith knocked.
"Hallo!" came a muffled voice; "what do you want?"
"Open the door! Don't delay; it is important."
He turned to the hotel detective.
"Stay right there where you can watch the stairs and the lift,"
he instructed; "and note everyone and everything that passes this door.
But whatever you see or hear, do nothing without my orders."
The man moved off, and the door was opened. Smith whispered
The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from King Lear by William Shakespeare: Inform her full of my particular fear,
And thereto add such reasons of your own
As may compact it more. Get you gone,
And hasten your return. [Exit Oswald.] No, no, my lord!
This milky gentleness and course of yours,
Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon,
You are much more at task for want of wisdom
Than prais'd for harmful mildness.
Alb. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell.
Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
Gon. Nay then-
King Lear |
