| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Mrs. Warren's Profession by George Bernard Shaw: the right place, you know. The first wrangler is always a
dreamy, morbid fellow, in whom the thing is pushed to the length
of a disease.
VIVIE. It doesnt pay. I wouldnt do it again for the same money.
PRAED [aghast] The same money!
VIVIE. Yes. Fifty pounds. Perhaps you dont know how it was.
Mrs Latham, my tutor at Newnham, told my mother that I could
distinguish myself in the mathematical tripos if I went in for it
in earnest. The papers were full just then of Phillipa Summers
beating the senior wrangler. You remember about it, of course.
PRAED [shakes his head energetically] !!!
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft: from her.--But, could any thing better be expected from a wretch,
whom she had taken into her house out of pure charity?' What a
torrent of abuse rushed out? till, almost breathless, she concluded
with saying, 'that I was born a strumpet; it ran in my blood,
and nothing good could come to those who harboured me.'
"My situation was, of course, discovered, and she declared
that I should not stay another night under the same roof with an
honest family. I was therefore pushed out of doors, and my trumpery
thrown after me, when it had been contemptuously examined in the
passage, lest I should have stolen any thing.
"Behold me then in the street, utterly destitute! Whither
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Faith of Men by Jack London: clung closer to him and the world loomed more colossal. And, day
by day, Alaska grew more remote and less real. And then he met
Kitty Sharon--a woman of his own flesh and blood and kind; a woman
who put her hand into his hand and drew him to her, till he forgot
the day and hour and the time of the year the first snow flies on
the Yukon.
Jees Uck moved into her grand log-house and dreamed away three
golden summer months. Then came the autumn, post-haste before the
down rush of winter. The air grew thin and sharp, the days thin
and short. The river ran sluggishly, and skin ice formed in the
quiet eddies. All migratory life departed south, and silence fell
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