| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker: search was ahead of her.
Edgar Caswall sat in the gloom of the great room, occasionally
stirred to curiosity when the drifting clouds allowed a little light
to fall from the storm-swept sky. But nothing really interested him
now. Since he had heard of Lilla's death, the gloom of his remorse,
emphasised by Mimi's upbraiding, had made more hopeless his cruel,
selfish, saturnine nature. He heard no sound, for his normal
faculties seemed benumbed.
Mimi, when she came to the door, which stood ajar, gave a light tap.
So light was it that it did not reach Caswall's ears. Then, taking
her courage in both hands, she boldly pushed the door and entered.
Lair of the White Worm |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Amy Foster by Joseph Conrad: her ears, and did not prevent the crime. For Mrs.
Smith this was another evidence of her stupidity;
on the other hand, her want of charm, in view of
Smith's well-known frivolousness, was a great rec-
commendation. Her short-sighted eyes would swim
with pity for a poor mouse in a trap, and she had
been seen once by some boys on her knees in the wet
grass helping a toad in difficulties. If it's true, as
some German fellow has said, that without phos-
phorus there is no thought, it is still more true that
there is no kindness of heart without a certain
Amy Foster |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: would keep Mercedes's hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes.
Mercedes's failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been
a fantasy; she was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through
and through with intense and throbbing life. She induced him to
take food and drink. Then, fighting sleep with what little strength
he had left, at last he succumbed.
For all Dick could ascertain his friend never stirred an eyelash nor
a finger for twenty-seven hours. When he awoke he was pale, weak,
but the old Thorne.
"Hello, Dick; I didn't dream it then," he said. "There you are, and
my darling with the proud, dark eyes--she's here?"
Desert Gold |
