| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe: the boy."
"Here are the two buffaloes," said Rachel. "Make the seats
as comfortable as may be; it's hard riding all night."
Jim came out first, and carefully assisted out his old mother,
who clung to his arm, and looked anxiously about, as if she
expected the pursuer every moment.
"Jim, are your pistols all in order?" said George, in a
low, firm voice.
"Yes, indeed," said Jim.
"And you've no doubt what you shall do, if they come?"
"I rather think I haven't," said Jim, throwing open his
Uncle Tom's Cabin |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Reminiscences of Tolstoy by Leo Tolstoy: turn out to be not a hare at all, but a horse's skull. How
annoying!
We would look at papa and Seryózha, thinking, "I
wonder if they saw that I took that skull for a hare." But papa
would be sitting keen and alert on his English saddle, with the
wooden stirrups, smoking a cigarette, while Seryózha would
perhaps have got his leash entangled and could not get it
straight.
"Thank heaven!" we would exclaim, "nobody saw me! What a
fool I should have felt!" So we would ride on.
The horse's even pace would begin to rock us to sleep,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: had only taken a spoonful of soup, and he now sat in front of his
empty plate, gazing silently about. There was some subdued yawning,
and occasionally eyelids closed and faces became haggard and white.
It was unutterably slow, as it always was, according to Vandeuvres's
dictum. This sort of supper should be served anyhow if it was to be
funny, he opined. Otherwise when elegantly and conventionally done
you might as well feed in good society, where you were not more
bored than here. Had it not been for Bordenave, who was still
bawling away, everybody would have fallen asleep. That rum old
buffer Bordenave, with his leg duly stretched on its chair, was
letting his neighbors, Lucy and Rose, wait on him as though he were
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