| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Apology by Xenophon: have been in the habit of seeing me so engaged at common festivals,
and on the public altars; and so might Meletus himself, if he had
wished. And as to novel divinities, how, pray, am I supposed to
introduce them by stating that I have a voice[21] from God which
clearly signifies to me what I ought do do? Why, what else do those
who make use of the cries of birds or utterences of men draw their
conclusions from if not from voices? Who will deny that the thunder
has a voice and is a very mighty omen;[22] and the priestess on her
tripod at Pytho,[23] does not she also proclaim by voice the messages
from the god? The god, at any rate, has foreknowledge, and premonishes
those whom he will of what is about to be. That is a thing which all
The Apology |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Beasts of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs: she stepped quickly to the camp table upon which burned the
oil lamp and extinguished the smudgy, evil-smelling flame.
In the total darkness of the interior she paused for a moment to
collect her wits and plan for the next step in her venture for freedom.
About her was a camp of enemies. Beyond these foes a black
wilderness of savage jungle peopled by hideous beasts of prey
and still more hideous human beasts.
There was little or no chance that she could survive even a few
days of the constant dangers that would confront her there;
but the knowledge that she had already passed through
so many perils unscathed, and that somewhere out in the
The Beasts of Tarzan |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: Mon Dieu! how brightly the sun seemed to shine now, she thought,
pausing at the door on her way out. Her small finger-tips, still
bedewed with holy water, rested caressingly on a gamin's head.
The ivy which enfolds the quaint chapel never seemed so green;
the shrines which serve as the Way of the Cross never seemed so
artistic; the baby graves, even, seemed cheerful.
Theophile called Sunday. Manuela's heart leaped. He had been
spending his Sundays with Claralie. His stay was short and he
was plainly bored. But Manuela knelt to thank the good St.
Rocque that night, and fondled the charm about her slim waist.
There came a box of bonbons during the week, with a decorative
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
