| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery: "Matthew had a bad spell with his heart Thursday," Marilla
explained, "and I didn't feel like leaving him. Oh, yes, he's
all right again now, but he takes them spells oftener than he
used to and I'm anxious about him. The doctor says he must be
careful to avoid excitement. That's easy enough, for Matthew
doesn't go about looking for excitement by any means and never did,
but he's not to do any very heavy work either and you might as well
tell Matthew not to breathe as not to work. Come and lay off your
things, Rachel. You'll stay to tea?"
"Well, seeing you're so pressing, perhaps I might as well, stay"
said Mrs. Rachel, who had not the slightest intention of doing
Anne of Green Gables |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis: the doors, with a new disgust, a new sense of sudden triumph,
and, under all, a new, vague dread, unknown before, smothered
down, kept under, but still there? It left him but once during
the night, when, for the second time in his life, he entered a
church. It was a sombre Gothic pile, where the stained light
lost itself in far-retreating arches; built to meet the
requirements and sympathies of a far other class than Wolfe's.
Yet it touched, moved him uncontrollably. The distances, the
shadows, the still, marble figures, the mass of silent kneeling
worshippers, the mysterious music, thrilled, lifted his soul
with a wonderful pain. Wolfe forgot himself, forgot the new
Life in the Iron-Mills |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Astoria by Washington Irving: swept, in full song and with regular flourish of the paddle,
round New York, in a still summer evening, to the wonder and
admiration of its inhabitants, who had never before witnessed on
their waters, a nautical apparition of the kind.
Such was the variegated band of adventurers about to embark in
the Tonquin on this ardous and doubtful enterprise. While yet in
port and on dry land, in the bustle of preparation and the
excitement of novelty, all was sunshine and promise. The
Canadians, especially, who, with their constitutional vivacity,
have a considerable dash of the gascon, were buoyant and
boastful, and great brag arts as to the future; while all those
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