| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: growing murmur; the audience ceased to take an interest in the
performance and looked round at the house. Lucy began laughing with
Labordette; the Count de Vandeuvres was craning his neck in
conversation behind Blanche's sturdy shoulders, while Fauchery, out
of the corners of his eyes, took stock of the Muffats, of whom the
count appeared very serious, as though he had not understood the
allusions, and the countess smiled vaguely, her eyes lost in
reverie. But on a sudden, in this uncomfortable state of things,
the applause of the clapping contingent rattled out with the
regularity of platoon firing. People turned toward the stage. Was
it Nana at last? This Nana made one wait with a vengeance.
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: persons; Michael Mitchell, Proprietor.' Reunion House was, I may go
the length of saying, a humble hostelry. You entered through a long
bar-room, thence passed into a little dining-room, and thence into a
still smaller kitchen. The furniture was of the plainest; but the
bar was hung in the American taste, with encouraging and hospitable
mottoes.
Jones was well known; we were received warmly; and two minutes
afterwards I had refused a drink from the proprietor, and was going
on, in my plain European fashion, to refuse a cigar, when Mr.
Mitchell sternly interposed, and explained the situation. He was
offering to treat me, it appeared, whenever an American bar-keeper
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott: lively fancy, loving heart did the rest. She was affecting
to write busily one Saturday afternoon, when she and Beth were
alone together. Yet as she scribbled, she kept her eye on her
sister, who seemed unusually quiet. Sitting at the window, Beth's
work often dropped into her lap, and she leaned her head upon her
hand, in a dejected attitude, while her eyes rested on the dull,
autumnal landscape. Suddenly some one passed below, whistling
like an operatic blackbird, and a voice called out, "All serene!
Coming in tonight."
Beth started, leaned forward, smiled and nodded, watched the
passer-by till his quick tramp died away, then said softly as if
Little Women |
