| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Troll Garden and Selected Stories by Willa Cather: with a screech.
"God! Canute, how you scared us! I thought it was crazy Lou--
he has been tearing around the neighborhood trying to convert
folks. I am afraid as death of him. He ought to be sent off, I
think. He is just as liable as not to kill us all, or burn
the barn, or poison the dogs. He has been worrying even the poor
minister to death, and he laid up with the rheumatism, too! Did
you notice that he was too sick to preach last Sunday? But don't
stand there in the cold, come in. Yensen isn't here, but he just
went over to Sorenson's for the mail; he won't be gone long. Walk
right in the other room and sit down."
The Troll Garden and Selected Stories |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Market-Place by Harold Frederic: was safe to be printed until it had been sworn to.
Why anybody should be afraid of them is more than I can see."
"Nevertheless," persisted his Lordship, blandly, "I should
greatly dislike any public discussion of our Company's affairs.
I hope it is quite clear that that can be avoided."
"Absolutely!" Thorpe told him, with reassuring energy.
"Why, discussions don't make themselves. Somebody has
to kick before anything gets discussed. And who is to
kick here? The public who hold the shares are not likely
to complain because they've gone up fifteen hundred
or two thousand per cent. And who else has any interest
The Market-Place |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from House of Mirth by Edith Wharton: the strange mysterious depths of her tranquillity.
But he remembered Gerty's warning words--he knew that, though
time had ceased in this room, its feet were hastening
relentlessly toward the door. Gerty had given him this supreme
half-hour, and he must use it as she willed.
He turned and looked about him, sternly compelling himself to
regain his consciousness of outward things. There was very little
furniture in the room. The shabby chest of drawers was spread
with a lace cover, and set out with a few gold-topped boxes and
bottles, a rose-coloured pin-cushion, a glass tray strewn with
tortoise-shell hair-pins--he shrank from the poignant intimacy of
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