| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells: near thing, indeed. But I've put some stuff into you now.
Notice your arm's sore? Injections. You've been insensible for nearly
thirty hours."
I thought slowly. (I was distracted now by the yelping of a number
of dogs.) "Am I eligible for solid food?" I asked.
"Thanks to me," he said. "Even now the mutton is boiling."
"Yes," I said with assurance; "I could eat some mutton."
"But," said he with a momentary hesitation, "you know I'm dying to hear
of how you came to be alone in that boat. Damn that howling!"
I thought I detected a certain suspicion in his eyes.
He suddenly left the cabin, and I heard him in violent controversy
The Island of Doctor Moreau |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Beasts of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs: woman to elude their vigilance, but several of the other
whites, realizing that they were already in a precarious
position owing to the numerous desertions that Rokoff's
cruelty had brought about, seized and disarmed him.
Then came the messengers from M'ganwazam, but scarce
had they told their story and Rokoff was preparing to depart
with them for their village when other runners, panting from
the exertions of their swift flight through the jungle, rushed
breathless into the firelight, crying that the great white giant
had escaped from M'ganwazam and was already on his way
to wreak vengeance against his enemies.
The Beasts of Tarzan |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Camille by Alexandre Dumas: her the strange mystery of love, is indeed a great happiness, but
it is the simplest thing in the world. To take captive a heart
which has had no experience of attack, is to enter an unfortified
and ungarrisoned city. Education, family feeling, the sense of
duty, the family, are strong sentinels, but there are no
sentinels so vigilant as not to be deceived by a girl of sixteen
to whom nature, by the voice of the man she loves, gives the
first counsels of love, all the more ardent because they seem so
pure.
The more a girl believes in goodness, the more easily will she
give way, if not to her lover, at least to love, for being
Camille |
