| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ivanhoe by Walter Scott: thee the third day from the present to find a champion.''
``That is but brief space,'' answered Rebecca,
``for a stranger, who is also of another faith, to find
one who will do battle, wagering life and honour
for her cause, against a knight who is called an approved
soldier.''
``We may not extend it,'' answered the Grand
Master; ``the field must be foughten in our own
presence, and divers weighty causes call us on the
fourth day from hence.''
``God's will be done!'' said Rebecca; ``I put
Ivanhoe |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Under the Andes by Rex Stout: and in each of the rooms, whose interiors we could plainly see,
were one or more of the Inca Women; and sometimes children rolled
about on the stony floor.
In one of them a man stood; I could have sworn that he was
gazing straight at us, and I gathered myself together for a spring;
but he made no movement of any kind and we passed swiftly by.
Once a little black ball of flesh--a boy it was, perhaps five
or six years old--tumbled out into the corridor under our very
feet. We strode over him and went swiftly on.
We had passed about a hundred of the open doorways, and were
beginning to entertain the hope that we might, after all, get
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: the stairs, to where the skirt of a dressing-gown fluttered on the
landing-place. 'Here is a gentleman here, whose house was actually
burnt down last night.'
'Dear me, dear me,' replied a testy voice, 'I am very sorry for
it, but what am I to do? I can't build it up again. The chief
magistrate of the city can't go and be a rebuilding of people's
houses, my good sir. Stuff and nonsense!'
'But the chief magistrate of the city can prevent people's houses
from having any need to be rebuilt, if the chief magistrate's a
man, and not a dummy--can't he, my lord?' cried the old gentleman
in a choleric manner.
Barnaby Rudge |
