| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Light of Western Stars by Zane Grey: Mebbe thet made him sore, so he went an' licked Flo's
brother-in-law. Thet wasn't so bad. Jack sure needed a good
lickin'. Wal, then Gene met Danny an' tried to get Danny drunk.
An' he couldn't! What do you think of that? Danny hedn't been
drinkin'--wouldn't touch a drop. I'm sure glad of thet, but it's
amazin' strange. Why, Danny was a fish fer red liquor. I guess
he an' Gene had some pretty hard words, though I'm not sure about
thet. Anyway, Gene went down to the railroad an' he got on an
engine, an' he was in the engine when it pulled out. Lord, I
hope he doesn't hold up the train! If he gets gay over in
Arizona he'll go to the pen at Yuma. An' thet pen is a graveyard
The Light of Western Stars |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe: till, finally, after reading some way, he threw down the book,
with an oath.
"You don't believe in ghosts, do you, Cass?" said he, taking
the tongs and settling the fire. "I thought you'd more sense than
to let noises scare _you_."
"No matter what I believe," said Cassy, sullenly.
"Fellows used to try to frighten me with their yarns at sea,"
said Legree. "Never come it round me that way. I'm too tough
for any such trash, tell ye."
Cassy sat looking intensely at him in the shadow of the corner.
There was that strange light in her eyes that always impressed
Uncle Tom's Cabin |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Across The Plains by Robert Louis Stevenson: ugly daylight of a Caithness autumn, with a low sky, a gray sea,
and a whistling wind.
Bob Bain had five shillings for his trouble, and I had done what I
desired. It was one of the best things I got from my education as
an engineer: of which, however, as a way of life, I wish to speak
with sympathy. It takes a man into the open air; it keeps him
hanging about harbour-sides, which is the richest form of idling;
it carries him to wild islands; it gives him a taste of the genial
dangers of the sea; it supplies him with dexterities to exercise;
it makes demands upon his ingenuity; it will go far to cure him of
any taste (if ever he had one) for the miserable life of cities.
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