| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Two Poets by Honore de Balzac: worldlings. He went round by way of the printing office for David's
volume of poetry.
The two lovers were left alone, and David had never felt more
embarrassed in his life. Countless terrors seized upon him; he half
wished, half feared that Eve would praise him; he longed to run away,
for even modesty is not exempt from coquetry. David was afraid to
utter a word that might seem to beg for thanks; everything that he
could think of put him in some false position, so he held his tongue
and looked guilty. Eve, guessing the agony of modesty, was enjoying
the pause; but when David twisted his hat as if he meant to go, she
looked at him and smiled.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dracula by Bram Stoker: Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall
kiss him at your will. Now go! Go! I must awaken him,
for there is work to be done."
"Are we to have nothing tonight?" said one of them, with a low laugh,
as she pointed to the bag which he had thrown upon the floor,
and which moved as though there were some living thing within it.
For answer he nodded his head. One of the women jumped
forward and opened it. If my ears did not deceive me there
was a gasp and a low wail, as of a half smothered child.
The women closed round, whilst I was aghast with horror.
But as I looked, they disappeared, and with them the dreadful bag.
Dracula |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: and bright hopes all the time. It all seemed so neat and clean
and straightforward, and what rough chaps call a 'cert.' And we
used to speculate how the other blessed lot, the proper salvagers,
who'd started two days before us, were getting on, until our sides
fairly ached. We all messed together in the Sanderses' cabin--it
was a curious crew, all officers and no men--and there stood the
diving-dress waiting its turn. Young Sanders was a humorous sort of
chap, and there certainly was something funny in the confounded
thing's great fat head and its stare, and he made us see it too.
'Jimmie Goggles,' he used to call it, and talk to it like a Christian.
Asked if he was married, and how Mrs. Goggles was, and all the little
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