| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ballads by Robert Louis Stevenson: And he uttered a summoning shout and called on the clan to rise.
Over against him at once, in the spotted shade of the trees,
Owlish and blinking creatures scrambled to hands and knees;
On the grades of the sacred terrace, the driveller woke to fear,
And the hand of the ham-drooped warrior brandished a wavering spear.
And Rua folded his arms, and scorn discovered his teeth;
Above the war-crowd gibbered, and Rua stood smiling beneath.
Thick, like leaves in the autumn, faint, like April sleet,
Missiles from tremulous hands quivered around his feet;
And Taheia leaped from her place; and the priest, the ruby-eyed,
Ran to the front of the terrace, and brandished his arms, and cried:
Ballads |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Father Damien by Robert Louis Stevenson: And I take it, this is a type of our division; that you are one of
those who have an eye for faults and failures; that you take a
pleasure to find and publish them; and that, having found them, you
make haste to forget the overvailing virtues and the real success
which had alone introduced them to your knowledge. It is a
dangerous frame of mind. That you may understand how dangerous,
and into what a situation it has already brought you, we will (if
you please) go hand-in-hand through the different phrases of your
letter, and candidly examine each from the point of view of its
truth, its appositeness, and its charity.
Damien was COARSE.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from McTeague by Frank Norris: home, she would lock her door, open her trunk, and pile all
her little hoard on her table. By now it was four hundred
and seven dollars and fifty cents. Trina would play with
this money by the hour, piling it, and repiling it, or
gathering it all into one heap, and drawing back to the
farthest corner of the room to note the effect, her head on
one side. She polished the gold pieces with a mixture of
soap and ashes until they shone, wiping them carefully on
her apron. Or, again, she would draw the heap lovingly
toward her and bury her face in it, delighted at the smell
of it and the feel of the smooth, cool metal on her cheeks.
McTeague |
