| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates by Howard Pyle: and swearing until he foamed at the lips, as though he had gone
clean crazy, while the black men began rowing back again across
the harbor as fast as ever they could lay oars into the water.
They put Barnaby True ashore below the old custom house; but so
bewildered and shaken was he by all that had happened, and by
what he had seen, and by the names that he heard spoken, that he
was scarcely conscious of any of the familiar things among which
he found himself thus standing. And so he walked up the moonlit
street toward his lodging like one drunk or bewildered; for "John
Malyoe" was the name of the captain of the Adventure galley--he
who had shot Barnaby's own grandfather--and "Abraham Dawling" was
Howard Pyle's Book of Pirates |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Antonia by Willa Cather: but there's no need for it. Leo always begs to sleep there,
and Ambrosch goes along to look after him.'
I told her I would like to sleep in the haymow, with the boys.
`You can do just as you want to. The chest is full of clean blankets,
put away for winter. Now I must go, or my girls will be doing all the work,
and I want to cook your supper myself.'
As we went toward the house, we met Ambrosch and Anton,
starting off with their milking-pails to hunt the cows.
I joined them, and Leo accompanied us at some distance,
running ahead and starting up at us out of clumps of ironweed,
calling, `I'm a jack rabbit,' or, `I'm a big bull-snake.'
My Antonia |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Domestic Peace by Honore de Balzac: sovereign's marriage with an Austrian archduchess. Never, in the most
splendid days of the Monarchy, had so many crowned heads thronged the
shores of the Seine, never had the French aristocracy been so rich or
so splendid. The diamonds lavishly scattered over the women's dresses,
and the gold and silver embroidery on the uniforms contrasted so
strongly with the penury of the Republic, that the wealth of the globe
seemed to be rolling through the drawing-rooms of Paris. Intoxication
seemed to have turned the brains of this Empire of a day. All the
military, not excepting their chief, reveled like parvenus in the
treasure conquered for them by a million men with worsted epaulettes,
whose demands were satisfied by a few yards of red ribbon.
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