| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from One Basket by Edna Ferber: tear-stained young ladies at dusk were an everyday occurrence;
Tessie, twisting her handkerchief in a torment of embarrassment.
But they asked no questions, these two. They evinced no
curiosity about this disheveled creature who had flung herself in
upon their decent solitude.
Tessie stared at the fire. She looked up at Old Man Hatton's
face and opened her lips. She looked down and shut them again.
Then she flashed a quick look at Angie, to see if she could
detect there some suspicion, some disdain. None. Angie Hatton
looked--well, Tessie put it to herself, thus: "She looks like
she'd cried till she couldn't cry no more--only inside."
One Basket |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy: "No, the little one cries, and they say the nurse hasn't enough
milk."
"Why didn't you let me nurse her, when I begged to? Anyway"
(Alexey Alexandrovitch knew what was meant by that "anyway"),
"she's a baby, and they're killing her." She rang the bell and
ordered the baby to be brought her. "I begged to nurse her, I
wasn't allowed to, and now I'm blamed for it."
"I don't blame . . ."
"Yes, you do blame me! My God! why didn't I die!" And she broke
into sobs. "Forgive me, I'm nervous, I'm unjust," she said,
controlling herself, "but do go away . . ."
Anna Karenina |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Master of the World by Jules Verne: what fate awaited me, and where would I be carried by the "Terror,"
if I remained on board?
It was a quarter past six. The destroyers, quivering and trembling
under the strain of their speed, gained on us perceptibly. They were
now directly astern, leaving between them a distance of twelve or
fifteen cable lengths. The "Terror," without increasing her speed,
saw one of them approach on the port side, the other to starboard.
I did not leave my place. The man at the bow was close by me.
Immovable at the helm, his eyes burning beneath his contracted brows,
the captain waited. He meant, perhaps, to finish the chase by one
last maneuver.
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