| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from When the World Shook by H. Rider Haggard: and two of his people. We seized our weapons, remembering our
experiences of the night, but Marama waved a bough in token of
peace. So, carrying our revolvers, we went to the rock edge to
meet him. He crept ashore and, chief though he was, prostrated
himself upon his face before us, which told me that he had heard
of the fate of the sorcerers. His apologies were abject. He
explained that he had no part in the outrage of the attack, and
besought us to intercede on behalf of him and his people with the
awakened god of the Mountain whom he looked for with a terrified
air.
We consoled him as well as we could, and told him that he had
When the World Shook |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: with us. My uncle thanked him heartily for his extreme kindness. I
constructed a few fine Latin sentences to express my cordial
farewell. Then we bestrode our steeds and with his last adieu M.
Fridrikssen treated me to a line of Virgil eminently applicable to
such uncertain wanderers as we were likely to be:
"Et quacumque viam dedent fortuna sequamur."
"Therever fortune clears a way,
Thither our ready footsteps stray."
CHAPTER XII.
A BARREN LAND
We had started under a sky overcast but calm. There was no fear of
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from At the Sign of the Cat & Racket by Honore de Balzac: had placed on canvas the magic of the scene of which the memory had,
in a sense, made him a devotee; his happiness was incomplete till he
should possess a faithful portrait of his idol. He went many times
past the house of the Cat and Racket; he even ventured in once or
twice, under a disguise, to get a closer view of the bewitching
creature that Madame Guillaume covered with her wing. For eight whole
months, devoted to his love and to his brush, he was lost to the sight
of his most intimate friends forgetting the world, the theatre,
poetry, music, and all his dearest habits. One morning Girodet broke
through all the barriers with which artists are familiar, and which
they know how to evade, went into his room, and woke him by asking,
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