| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Twice Told Tales by Nathaniel Hawthorne: hoard of old rags."
"Pretty much so, Tabby," said Mr. Brown, lifting a handful of the
treasure.
Oh, what a ghost of dead and buried wealth had Peter Goldthwaite
raised, to scare himself out of his scanty wits withal! Here was
the semblance of an incalculable sum, enough to purchase the
whole town, and build every street anew, but which, vast as it
was, no sane man would have given a solid sixpence for. What
then, in sober earnest, were the delusive treasures of the chest?
Why, here were old provincial bills of credit, and treasury
notes, and bills of land, banks, and all other bubbles of the
Twice Told Tales |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Island Nights' Entertainments by Robert Louis Stevenson: and there was the milky, round-bellied bottle where he left it. A
third time he looked back, and turned a corner; but he had scarce
done so, when something knocked upon his elbow, and behold! it was
the long neck sticking up; and as for the round belly, it was
jammed into the pocket of his pilot-coat.
"And that looks like the truth," said Keawe.
The next thing he did was to buy a cork-screw in a shop, and go
apart into a secret place in the fields. And there he tried to
draw the cork, but as often as he put the screw in, out it came
again, and the cork as whole as ever.
"This is some new sort of cork," said Keawe, and all at once he
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from American Notes by Rudyard Kipling: pebbles, all sand and landing-net, and I dropped on a log to rest
for a moment. As I drew breath the weary hands slackened their
hold, and I forgot to give him the butt.
A wild scutter in the water, a plunge, and a break for the
head-waters of the Clackamas was my reward, and the weary toil of
reeling in with one eye under the water and the other on the top
joint of the rod was renewed. Worst of all, I was blocking
California's path to the little landing bay aforesaid, and he had
to halt and tire his prize where he was.
"The father of all the salmon!" he shouted. "For the love of
Heaven, get your trout to bank, Johnny Bull!"
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