| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini: "You are caught between two fires," the incendiary's stuttering
voice raved on. "Between the Germans on the Champ de Mars and the
Swiss in the Bastille. To arms, then! To arms!"
Excitement boiled up and over. From a neighbouring waxworks show
came the bust of Necker, and presently a bust of that comedian the
Duke of Orleans, who had a party and who was as ready as any other
of the budding opportunists of those days to take advantage of the
moment for his own aggrandizement. The bust of Necker was draped
with crepe.
Andre-Louis looked on, and grew afraid. Marat's pamphlet had
impressed him. It had expressed what himself he had expressed more
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: be strangely still, with dark questioning eyes dumb to their own
secrets.
Looking into her face now, you could be sure of one thing: that
she had left the town, the factory, the dust far away, shaken the
thought of them off her brain. No miles could measure the
distance between her home and them. At a stile across the field
an old man sat waiting. She hurried now, her cheek colouring.
Dr. Knowles could see them going to the house beyond, talking
earnestly. He sat down in the darkening twilight on the stile,
and waited half an hour. He did not care to hear the story of
Margret's first day at the mill, knowing how her father and
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Almayer's Folly by Joseph Conrad: is also a barrier that nothing can remove. You ask why I want to
go, and I ask you why I should stay."
He staggered as if struck in the face, but with a quick,
unhesitating grasp she caught him by the arm and steadied him.
"Why you should stay!" he repeated slowly, in a dazed manner, and
stopped short, astounded at the completeness of his misfortune.
"You told me yesterday," she went on again, "that I could not
understand or see your love for me: it is so. How can I? No
two human beings understand each other. They can understand but
their own voices. You wanted me to dream your dreams, to see
your own visions--the visions of life amongst the white faces of
Almayer's Folly |
