| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: the shaded walk. Annette laughed joyously as Philip lounged down
the gallery.
"I frightened the child away," she told him.
You've never been for a hay-ride and fish-fry on the shores of
the Mississippi Sound, have you? When the summer boarders and
the Northern visitors undertake to give one, it is a
comparatively staid affair, where due regard is had for one's
wearing apparel, and where there are servants to do the hardest
work. Then it isn't enjoyable at all. But when the natives, the
boys and girls who live there, make up their minds to have fun,
you may depend upon its being just the best kind.
 The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Woman and Labour by Olive Schreiner: shown, and when we consider that the greatest musicians the world has seen,
from Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart to Wagner, have been of that race, it
appears highly probable that such a correlation between the German
organisation and the intellectual gift of music does exist. Similar
intellectual peculiarities seem to be connoted by the external differences
which mark off other races from each other. Nevertheless, were persons of
all of these nationalities gathered in one colony, any attempt to legislate
for their restriction to certain forms of intellectual labour on the ground
of their apparently proved national aptitudes or disabilities, would be
regarded as insane. To insist that all Jews, and none but Jews, should
lead and instruct in religious matters; that all Englishmen, and none but
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: help thinking, "Now you look just like your dear mother when I laid her
out!"
...Yes, madam, it was all left to me. Oh, she did look sweet. I did her
hair, soft-like, round her forehead, all in dainty curls, and just to one
side of her neck I put a bunch of most beautiful purple pansies. Those
pansies made a picture of her, madam! I shall never forget them. I
thought to-night, when I looked at my lady, "Now, if only the pansies was
there no one could tell the difference."
...Only the last year, madam. Only after she'd got a little--well--feeble
as you might say. Of course, she was never dangerous; she was the sweetest
old lady. But how it took her was--she thought she'd lost something. She
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