| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain: hand, at the rate of a ton a day; but I had begun to
put the mining on a scientific basis as early as I could.
Yes, I had made pretty handsome progress when Sir
Sagramor's challenge struck me.
Four years rolled by -- and then! Well, you would
never imagine it in the world. Unlimited power is the
ideal thing when it is in safe hands. The despotism of
heaven is the one absolutely perfect government. An
earthly despotism would be the absolutely perfect earthly
government, if the conditions were the same, namely,
the despot the perfectest individual of the human race,
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Bureaucracy by Honore de Balzac: Rabourdin succeeded him, his talents (for Celestine did vouchsafe him
an administrative gift) would be so thoroughly appreciated that the
office of Master of petitions, formerly promised, would now be given
to him; she fancied she saw him the king's commissioner, presenting
bills to the Chambers and defending them; then indeed she could help
him; she would even be, if needful, his secretary; she would sit up
all night to do the work! All this to drive in the Bois in a pretty
carriage, to equal Madame Delphine de Nucingen, to raise her salon to
the level of Madame Colleville's, to be invited to the great
ministerial solemnities, to win listeners and make them talk of her as
"Madame Rabourdin DE something or other" (she had not yet determined
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard: royal salute!
"Now, I have spoken. Walk your little road, O King and Prince and
Councillors, till you reach the gulf into which I sink, that yawns for
all of you. O King, when you meet me again at the bottom of that gulf,
what a tale you will have to tell me, you who are but the shadow of a
king, you whose heart henceforth must be eaten out by a worm that is
called _Love-of-the-Lost_. O Prince and Conqueror Cetewayo, what a tale
you will have to tell me when I greet you at the bottom of that gulf,
you who will bring your nation to a wreck and at last die as I must
die--only the servant of others and by the will of others. Nay, ask me
not how. Ask old Zikali, my master, who saw the beginning of your House
Child of Storm |
