| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: "So next Wednesday I am to perform the great ceremony," remarked Heckewelder,
laying his hand kindly on Young's knee. "We'll celebrate the first white
wedding in the Village of Peace."
Young looked shyly down at his boots; Edwards crossed one leg over the other,
and coughed loudly to hide his embarrassment. Kate wore, as usual, her pensive
smile; Nell's eyes twinkled, and she was about to speak, when Heckewelder's
quizzical glance in her direction made her lips mute.
"I hope I'll have another wedding on my hands soon," he said placidly.
This ordinary remark had an extraordinary effect. Nell turned with burning
cheeks and looked out of the window. Jim frowned fiercely and bit his lips.
Edwards began to laugh, and even Mr. Wells' serious face lapsed into a smile.
The Spirit of the Border |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Princess of Parms by Edgar Rice Burroughs: the supporting ornament, I swung out into space at the end
of the strap. Far below me lay the brilliantly lighted streets,
the hard pavements, and death. There was a little jerk at
the top of the supporting eaves, and a nasty slipping, grating
sound which turned me cold with apprehension; then the
hook caught and I was safe.
Clambering quickly aloft I grasped the edge of the eaves
and drew myself to the surface of the roof above. As I gained
my feet I was confronted by the sentry on duty, into the
muzzle of whose revolver I found myself looking.
"Who are you and whence came you?" he cried.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes: back by praising in me what in her love for me she thought worthy of
praise; and besides we had a hundred thousand trifles and doings of
our neighbours and acquaintances to talk about, and the utmost
extent of my boldness was to take, almost by force, one of her fair
white hands and carry it to my lips, as well as the closeness of the
low grating that separated us allowed me. But the night before the
unhappy day of my departure she wept, she moaned, she sighed, and
she withdrew leaving me filled with perplexity and amazement,
overwhelmed at the sight of such strange and affecting signs of
grief and sorrow in Luscinda; but not to dash my hopes I ascribed it
all to the depth of her love for me and the pain that separation gives
Don Quixote |
