| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith: the strange reserve of his temper is such, that if abruptly informed of
it, he would instantly quit the house before our plan was ripe for
execution.
MISS NEVILLE. But how shall we keep him in the deception? Miss
Hardcastle is just returned from walking; what if we still continue to
deceive him?----This, this way----[They confer.]
Enter MARLOW.
MARLOW. The assiduities of these good people teaze me beyond bearing.
My host seems to think it ill manners to leave me alone, and so he
claps not only himself, but his old-fashioned wife, on my back. They
talk of coming to sup with us too; and then, I suppose, we are to run
She Stoops to Conquer |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Touchstone by Edith Wharton: really she didn't see what there was to laugh at. "I'm sure I
feel more like crying. I don't know what I should have done if
Alexa hadn't been home to give me a cup of tea. My nerves are in
shreds--yes, another, dear, please--" and as Glennard looked his
perplexity, she went on, after pondering on the selection of a
second lump of sugar, "Why, I've just come from the reading, you
know--the reading at the Waldorf."
"I haven't been in town long enough to know anything," said
Glennard, taking the cup his wife handed him. "Who has been
reading what?"
"That lovely girl from the South--Georgie--Georgie what's her
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Allan Quatermain by H. Rider Haggard: contemplating the Frenchman's kicks, and listening to his yells,
which were awful.
'What art thou doing?' I said, running up. 'Wouldst thou kill
the man? Pull him out of the bush!'
With a savage grunt he obeyed, seizing the wretched Alphonse
by the ankle, and with a jerk that must have nearly dislocated
it, tearing him out of the heart of the shrub. Never did I see
such a sight as he presented, his clothes half torn off his back,
and bleeding as he was in every direction from the sharp thorns.
There he lay and yelled and rolled, and there was no getting
anything out of him.
Allan Quatermain |
