| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pellucidar by Edgar Rice Burroughs: mighty Mahars in their buried cities, faring forth from
time to time upon slave-raiding or punitive expeditions
against the human race of Pellucidar, of whom the
dominant race of the inner world think as we think
of the bison or the wild sheep of our own world.
Close behind the foremost Sagoth came others until
a full dozen raced, shouting after the terror-stricken
old man. They would be upon him shortly, that was
plain.
One of them was rapidly overhauling him, his back-
thrown spear-arm testifying to his purpose.
Pellucidar |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: of cariboo and the mixing-pan."
When his men, converts by his own hand, had gained the bank, the
trio fell to their knees, hands and backs burdened with camp
equipage, and offered up thanks for their passage through the
wilderness and their safe arrival. Hay Stockard looked upon the
function with sneering disapproval, the romance and solemnity of
it lost to his matter-of-fact soul. Baptiste the Red, still
gazing across, recognized the familiar postures, and remembered
the girl who had shared his star-roofed couch in the hills and
forests, and the woman-child who lay somewhere by bleak Hudson's
Bay.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy: to him now, but in spite of all his mental efforts to go along
with him he saw by the expression of that calm, stern face that
for the dying man all was growing clearer and clearer that was
still as dark as ever for Levin.
"Yes, yes, so," the dying man articulated slowly at intervals.
"Wait a little." He was silent. "Right!" he pronounced all at
once reassuringly, as though all were solved for him. "O Lord!"
he murmured, and sighed deeply.
Marya Nikolaevna felt his feet. "They're getting cold," she
whispered.
For a long while, a very long while it seemed to Levin, the sick
Anna Karenina |
