| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The People That Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: indication of fear. Involuntarily I threw my left arm about
her and drew her to me for an instant. It was an act of
reassurance rather than a caress, though I must admit that
again and even in the face of death I thrilled at the contact
with her; and then I released her and threw my rifle to my
shoulder, for at last I had reached the conclusion that nothing
more could be gained by waiting. My only hope was to get as
many shots into the creature as I could before it was upon me.
Already it had torn away a second rock and was in the very act
of forcing its huge bulk through the opening it had now made.
So now I took careful aim between its eyes; my right fingers
The People That Time Forgot |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Alcibiades I by Plato: Antisthenes, and in the next generation Aristotle, are all said to have
composed dialogues; and mistakes of names are very likely to have occurred.
Greek literature in the third century before Christ was almost as
voluminous as our own, and without the safeguards of regular publication,
or printing, or binding, or even of distinct titles. An unknown writing
was naturally attributed to a known writer whose works bore the same
character; and the name once appended easily obtained authority. A
tendency may also be observed to blend the works and opinions of the master
with those of his scholars. To a later Platonist, the difference between
Plato and his imitators was not so perceptible as to ourselves. The
Memorabilia of Xenophon and the Dialogues of Plato are but a part of a
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Village Rector by Honore de Balzac: contortions, such rage at being powerless to take him by the throat,
that he could do nothing.
The law could only look to the influence of the Church at the last
moment. The des Vanneaulx had frequently consulted with the Abbe
Pascal, chaplain of the prison. This priest was not without the
faculty of making prisoners listen to him, and he religiously braved
Tascheron's violence, trying to get in a few words amid the storms of
that powerful nature in convulsion. But this struggle of spiritual
fatherhood against the hurricane of unchained passions, overcame the
poor abbe completely.
"The man has had his paradise here below," said the old man, in his
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