| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Walking by Henry David Thoreau: susceptible to some influences important to our intellectual and
moral growth, if the sun had shone and the wind blown on us a
little less; and no doubt it is a nice matter to proportion
rightly the thick and thin skin. But methinks that is a scurf
that will fall off fast enough--that the natural remedy is to be
found in the proportion which the night bears to the day, the
winter to the summer, thought to experience. There will be so
much the more air and sunshine in our thoughts. The callous palms
of the laborer are conversant with finer tissues of self-respect
and heroism, whose touch thrills the heart, than the languid
fingers of idleness. That is mere sentimentality that lies abed
Walking |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Circular Staircase by Mary Roberts Rinehart: breathing of Winters, the night detective, sleeping just
inside the entry. And then, far off, I heard the rapping noise
that had lured Louise down the staircase that other night, two
weeks before. It was over my head, and very faint--three or four
short muffled taps, a pause, and then again, stealthily repeated.
The sound of Mr. Winters' breathing was comforting; with the
thought that there was help within call, something kept me from
waking him. I did not move for a moment; ridiculous things Liddy
had said about a ghost--I am not at all superstitious, except,
perhaps, in the middle of the night, with everything dark--things
like that came back to me. Almost beside me was the clothes
The Circular Staircase |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft: from continual change of air; and that he intended to return when
the spring was a little more advanced (it was now the middle of
February), and then we would plan a journey to Italy, leaving the
fogs and cares of England far behind.' He approved of my conduct,
promised to adopt my child, and seemed to have no doubt of obliging
Mr. Venables to hear reason. He wrote to his friend, by the same
post, desiring him to call on Mr. Venables in his name; and, in
consequence of the remonstrances he dictated, I was permitted
to lie-in tranquilly.
"The two or three weeks previous, I had been allowed to rest
in peace; but, so accustomed was I to pursuit and alarm, that I
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