| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: are not fit to mix with a man of position and learning like myself?" he
began.
"Then in God's name why do you mix with us, Hernan Pereira?" asked the
saturnine Meyer, thrusting his face forward till the Newgate fringe he
wore by way of a beard literally seemed to curl with wrath. "When we
were hungry you did not wish it, for you slunk away and left us, taking
all the powder. But now that we are full again, thanks to the little
Englishman, and you are hungry, you come back. Well, if I had my way I
would give you a gun and six days' rations, and turn you out to shift
for yourself."
"Don't be afraid, Jan Meyer," shouted Pereira from the back of the
Marie |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey: he loved the Painted Desert, with its ever-changing pictures, printed in
sweeping dust and bare peaks and purple haze. He loved the beauty of
these places, and the wildness in them had an affinity with something
strange and untamed in him. He would never leave them. When his blood
had cooled, when this tumultuous thrill and swell had worn themselves
out, happiness would come again.
Early in the winter Snap Naab had forced his wife to visit his father's
house with him; and she had remained in the room, white-faced,
passionately jealous, while he wooed Mescal. Then had come a scene.
Hare had not been present, but he knew its results. Snap had been
furious, his father grave, Mescal tearful and ashamed. The wife found
The Heritage of the Desert |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Letters of Two Brides by Honore de Balzac: vanity, that I confess I begin to understand the unconscionable price
women are ready to pay for such frail and precarious privileges. A
triumph of this kind is like strong wine to vanity, self-love, and all
the self-regarding feelings. To pose perpetually as a divinity is a
draught so potent in its intoxicating effects, that I am no longer
surprised to see women grow selfish, callous, and frivolous in the
heart of this adoration. The fumes of society mount to the head. You
lavish the wealth of your soul and spirit, the treasures of your time,
the noblest efforts of your will, upon a crowd of people who repay you
in smiles and jealousy. The false coin of their pretty speeches,
compliments, and flattery is the only return they give for the solid
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