| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Records of a Family of Engineers by Robert Louis Stevenson: lofty turrets of the venerable Abbey of Aberbrothwick. The
writer felt much satisfaction at the manner of this parting
scene, though he must own that the present rejoicing was, on
his part, mingled with occasional reflections upon the
responsibility of his situation, which extended to the safety
of all who should be engaged in this perilous work. With such
sensations he retired to his cabin; but as the artificers were
rather inclined to move about the deck than to remain in their
confined berths below, his repose was transient, and the
vessel being small every motion was necessarily heard. Some
who were musically inclined occasionally sung; but he listened
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: before his ears too, because just then Captain Anthony raised his
voice grimly. Perhaps he too had heard the chuckle of the old man.
"Your father has found an argument which makes me pause, if it does
not convince me. No! I can't answer it. I--I don't want to answer
it. I simply surrender. He shall have his way with you--and with
me. Only," he added in a gloomy lowered tone which struck Mr.
Powell as if a pedal had been put down, "only it shall take a little
time. I have never lied to you. Never. I renounce not only my
chance but my life. In a few days, directly we get into port, the
very moment we do, I, who have said I could never let you go, I
shall let you go."
Chance |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Wrong Box by Stevenson & Osbourne: Morris suddenly drew an inference. 'There has been an accident'
thought he, and was elated at his perspicacity. Almost at the
same time his eye lighted on John, who lay close by as white as
paper. 'Poor old John! poor old cove!' he thought, the schoolboy
expression popping forth from some forgotten treasury, and he
took his brother's hand in his with childish tenderness. It was
perhaps the touch that recalled him; at least John opened his
eyes, sat suddenly up, and after several ineffectual movements of
his lips, 'What's the row?' said he, in a phantom voice.
The din of that devil's smithy still thundered in their ears.
'Let us get away from that,' Morris cried, and pointed to the
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