| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: Surely he was not going out, to shut us in again! no, never!
"Uncle!" I cried.
He seemed not to hear me.
"Uncle Liedenbrock!" I cried, lifting up my voice.
"Ay," he answered like a man suddenly waking.
"Uncle, that key!"
"What key? The door key?"
"No, no!" I cried. "The key of the document."
The Professor stared at me over his spectacles; no doubt he saw
something unusual in the expression of my countenance; for he laid
hold of my arm, and speechlessly questioned me with his eyes. Yes,
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry: shoved him out and across the yard to the extra pony hitched at the
gate. The cow-punchers lolled in their saddles, open-mouthed.
"Take this man," said Raidler to Ross Hargis, "and put him to work.
Make him work hard, sleep hard, and eat hard. You boys know I done
what I could for him, and he was welcome. Yesterday the best doctor in
San Antone examined him, and says he's got the lungs of a burro and
the constitution of a steer. You know what to do with him, Ross."
Ross Hargis only smiled grimly.
"Aw," said McGuire, looking intently at Raidler, with a peculiar
expression upon his face, "the croaker said I was all right, did he?
Said I was fakin', did he? You put him onto me. You t'ought I wasn't
Heart of the West |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Soul of Man by Oscar Wilde: Still, there is the word, and they use it as best they can. An
artist is, of course, not disturbed by it. The true artist is a
man who believes absolutely in himself, because he is absolutely
himself. But I can fancy that if an artist produced a work of art
in England that immediately on its appearance was recognised by the
public, through their medium, which is the public press, as a work
that was quite intelligible and highly moral, he would begin to
seriously question whether in its creation he had really been
himself at all, and consequently whether the work was not quite
unworthy of him, and either of a thoroughly second-rate order, or
of no artistic value whatsoever.
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