| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Young Forester by Zane Grey: "but I guess somewhar whar it'll be hot!"
We were lost in the forest and almost surrounded by fire, if the roar was
anything to tell by. We galloped on, always governed by the roar, always
avoiding the slope up the mountain. If we once started up that with the
fire in our rear we were doomed. Perhaps there were times when the wind
deceived us. It was hard to tell. Anyway, we kept on, growing more
bewildered. Bud looked like a dead man already and reeled in his saddle.
The horses were getting hard to manage, and the wind was strengthening and
puffed at us from all quarters. Bill still looked cool, but the last
vestige of color had faded from his face. These things boded ill. Herky
had grown strangely silent, which fact was the worst of all for me. For that
The Young Forester |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: steam-engine. And surely of all honoured names none is so
grotesquely and tragically honoured as poor Filmer's, the timid,
intellectual creature who solved the problem over which the world
had hung perplexed and a little fearful for so many generations,
the man who pressed the button that has changed peace and warfare
and well-nigh every condition of human life and happiness. Never
has that recurring wonder of the littleness of the scientific man
in the face of the greatness of his science found such an amazing
exemplification. Much concerning Filmer is, and must remain,
profoundly obscure--Filmers attract no Boswells--but the essential
facts and the concluding scene are clear enough, and there are
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Deserted Woman by Honore de Balzac: profit by our experience.
While Gaston's lack of confidence in his mental equipment drove him to
borrow charms from his clothes, Madame de Beauseant herself was
instinctively giving more attention to her toilette.
"I would rather not frighten people, at all events," she said to
herself as she arranged her hair.
In M. de Nueil's character, person, and manner there was that touch of
unconscious originality which gives a kind of flavor to things that
any one might say or do, and absolves everything that they may choose
to do or say. He was highly cultivated, he had a keen brain, and a
face, mobile as his own nature, which won the goodwill of others. The
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