| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin: imperfect teeth; long-haired and coarse-haired animals are apt to have, as
is asserted, long or many horns; pigeons with feathered feet have skin
between their outer toes; pigeons with short beaks have small feet, and
those with long beaks large feet. Hence, if man goes on selecting, and
thus augmenting, any peculiarity, he will almost certainly unconsciously
modify other parts of the structure, owing to the mysterious laws of the
correlation of growth.
The result of the various, quite unknown, or dimly seen laws of variation
is infinitely complex and diversified. It is well worth while carefully to
study the several treatises published on some of our old cultivated plants,
as on the hyacinth, potato, even the dahlia, &c.; and it is really
On the Origin of Species |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad: talk I gathered the notion of an eccentric personality, a man of
great wealth, not so much solitary as difficult of access, a
collector of fine things, a painter known only to very few people
and not at all to the public market. But as meantime I had been
emptying my Venetian goblet with a certain regularity (the amount
of heat given out by that iron stove was amazing; it parched one's
throat, and the straw-coloured wine didn't seem much stronger than
so much pleasantly flavoured water) the voices and the impressions
they conveyed acquired something fantastic to my mind. Suddenly I
perceived that Mills was sitting in his shirt-sleeves. I had not
noticed him taking off his coat. Blunt had unbuttoned his shabby
The Arrow of Gold |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey: picnic days long gone. But, in the face of those dominating wind-scarred
walls, he could not forget.
That night Hare endeavored to see Mescal alone for a few moments, to see
her once more with unguarded eyes, to whisper a few words, to say
good-bye; but it was impossible.On the morrow he rode out of the red
cliff gate with Dave and the pack-horses, a dull ache in his heart; for
amid the cheering crowd of children and women who bade them good-bye he
had caught the wave of Mescal's hand and a look of her eyes that would be
with him always. What might happen before he returned, if he ever did
return! For he knew now, as well as he could feel Silvermane's easy
stride, that out there under the white glare of desert, the white gleam
The Heritage of the Desert |
