| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Animal Farm by George Orwell: way of leaving work early on the ground that there was a stone in her
hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was somewhat peculiar. It was soon
noticed that when there was work to be done the cat could never be found.
She would vanish for hours on end, and then reappear at meal-times, or in
the evening after work was over, as though nothing had happened. But she
always made such excellent excuses, and purred so affectionately, that it
was impossible not to believe in her good intentions. Old Benjamin, the
donkey, seemed quite unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work in the
same slow obstinate way as he had done it in Jones's time, never shirking
and never volunteering for extra work either. About the Rebellion and its
results he would express no opinion. When asked whether he was not happier
Animal Farm |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Marvelous Land of Oz by L. Frank Baum: The vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again; a whiff of fresh
air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly,
as if stirred from within.
Glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. Then she bent
over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form
of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a May morning. Her eyes sparkled as
two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. All adown her back
floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them
at the brow. Her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and
dainty satin slippers shod her feet.
At this exquisite vision Tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space
The Marvelous Land of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne: be but as good as thou art handsome, and heaven will fill it. I
had a parcel of crowns in my hand to pay for Shakespeare; and, as
she had let go the purse entirely, I put a single one in; and,
tying up the riband in a bow-knot, returned it to her.
The young girl made me more a humble courtesy than a low one: -
'twas one of those quiet, thankful sinkings, where the spirit bows
itself down, - the body does no more than tell it. I never gave a
girl a crown in my life which gave me half the pleasure.
My advice, my dear, would not have been worth a pin to you, said I,
if I had not given this along with it: but now, when you see the
crown, you'll remember it; - so don't, my dear, lay it out in
|
