| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov: One bell sounded languidly, then another, and the jingling notes
in a long delicate chain floated away from the hut.
When little by little they had died away, Raissa got up and
nervously paced to and fro. At first she was pale, then she
flushed all over. Her face was contorted with hate, her breathing
was tremulous, her eyes gleamed with wild, savage anger, and,
pacing up and down as in a cage, she looked like a tigress
menaced with red-hot iron. For a moment she stood still and
looked at her abode. Almost half of the room was filled up by the
bed, which stretched the length of the whole wall and consisted
of a dirty feather-bed, coarse grey pillows, a quilt, and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: and microscope could talk about a cadaver. The entire Third
District, with its swamps and canals and commons and railroad
sections, and its wondrous, crooked, tortuous streets, was an
open book to Titee. There was not a nook or corner that he did
not know or could not tell of. There was not a bit of gossip
among the gamins, little Creole and Spanish fellows, with dark
skins and lovely eyes, like spaniels, that Titee could not tell
of. He knew just exactly when it was time for crawfish to be
plentiful down in the Claiborne and Marigny canals; just when a
poor, breadless fellow might get a job in the big bone-yard and
fertilising factory, out on the railroad track; and as for the
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson: declension which is irretrievable and draws on the rest. And
this is to lose consciousness of oneself. In the best of
times, it is but by flashes, when our whole nature is clear,
strong and conscious, and events conspire to leave us free,
that we enjoy communion with our soul. At the worst, we are
so fallen and passive that we may say shortly we have none.
An arctic torpor seizes upon men. Although built of nerves,
and set adrift in a stimulating world, they develop a
tendency to go bodily to sleep; consciousness becomes
engrossed among the reflex and mechanical parts of life; and
soon loses both the will and power to look higher
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