| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry: "I ought to have ridden nearer your home," said Ranse. "But you never
will let me."
Yenna laughed. And in the soft light you could see her strong white
teeth and fearless eyes. No sentimentality there, in spite of the
moonlight, the odour of the ratamas, and the admirable figure of Ranse
Truesdell, the lover. But she was there, eight miles from her home, to
meet him.
"How often have I told you, Ranse," she said, "that I am your half-way
girl? Always half-way."
"Well?" said Ranse, with a question in his tones.
"I did," said Yenna, with almost a sigh. "I told him after dinner when
Heart of the West |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Almayer's Folly by Joseph Conrad: the time: with a shout and a leap he would be in the midst of
them, kriss in hand, killing, killing, killing, and would die
with the shouts of his enemies in his ears, their warm blood
spurting before his eyes.
Carried away by his excitement, he snatched the kriss hidden in
his sarong, and, drawing a long breath, rushed forward, struck at
the empty air, and fell on his face. He lay as if stunned in the
sudden reaction from his exaltation, thinking that, even if he
died thus gloriously, it would have to be before he saw Nina.
Better so. If he saw her again he felt that death would be too
terrible. With horror he, the descendant of Rajahs and of
Almayer's Folly |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan by Honore de Balzac: amphibious, etc., age, so many thousand years. Sure now of finding in
d'Arthez as much imagination in love as there was in his written
style, she thought it wise to bring him up at once to the highest
pitch of passion and belief.
She withdrew her hand hastily, with a magnificent movement full of
varied emotions. If she had said in words: "Stop, or I shall die," she
could not have spoken more plainly. She remained for a moment with her
eyes in d'Arthez's eyes, expressing in that one glance happiness,
prudery, fear, confidence, languor, a vague longing, and virgin
modesty. She was twenty years old! but remember, she had prepared for
this hour of comic falsehood by the choicest art of dress; she was
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