| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Pellucidar by Edgar Rice Burroughs: ingly friendly--they were searching for the very band
of marauders that had threatened my existence. The
huge rhamphorhynchus-like reptile that I had brought
back with me from the inner world--the ugly Mahar
that Hooja the Sly One had substituted for my dear
Dian at the moment of my departure--filled them
with wonder and with awe.
Nor less so did the mighty subterranean prospector
which had carried me to Pellucidar and back again,
and which lay out in the desert about two miles from
my camp.
Pellucidar |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Start in Life by Honore de Balzac: housekeeper in some great family, I could support myself and Monsieur
Clapart; but you, Oscar, what could you do? You have no means, and you
must earn some, for you must live. There are but four careers for a
young man like you,--commerce, government employment, the licensed
professions, or military service. All forms of commerce need capital,
and we have none to give you. In place of capital, a young man can
only give devotion and his capacity. But commerce also demands the
utmost discretion, and your conduct yesterday proves that you lack it.
To enter a government office, you must go through a long probation by
the help of influence, and you have just alienated the only protector
that we had,--a most powerful one. Besides, suppose you were to meet
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Moon-Face and Other Stories by Jack London: He was elusive. A man who intermingled nameless argot with polysyllabic and
technical terms, he would seem sometimes the veriest criminal, in speech,
face, expression, everything; at other times the cultured and polished
gentleman, and again, the philosopher and scientist. But there was something
glimmering; there which I never caught--flashes of sincerity, of real feeling,
I imagined, which were sped ere I could grasp; echoes of the man he once was,
possibly, or hints of the man behind the mask. But the mask he never lifted,
and the real man we never knew.
"But the sixty days with which you were rewarded for your journalism?" I
asked. "Never mind Loria. Tell me."
"Well, if I must." He flung one knee over the other with a short laugh.
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