| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell: only Rhett would let her cut bangs and frizzle them on her
forehead, how much better this bonnet would look! But he had
declared that he would shave her whole head if she banged her
forelocks. And these days he acted so atrociously he really might
do it.
It was a lovely afternoon, sunny but not too hot, bright but not
glaring, and the warm breeze that rustled the trees along Peachtree
Street made the plumes on Scarlett's bonnet dance. Her heart
danced too, as always when she was going to see Ashley. Perhaps,
if she paid off the team drivers and Hugh early, they would go home
and leave her and Ashley alone in the square little office in the
Gone With the Wind |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad: of the Gulf of Siam, tack for tack, in light winds and smooth water)--
the fourth day, I say, of this miserable juggling with the unavoidable,
as we sat at our evening meal, that man, whose slightest movement
I dreaded, after putting down the dishes ran up on deck busily.
This could not be dangerous. Presently he came down again;
and then it appeared that he had remembered a coat of mine
which I had thrown over a rail to dry after having been wetted
in a shower which had passed over the ship in the afternoon.
Sitting stolidly at the head of the table I became terrified at
the sight of the garment on his arm. Of course he made for my door.
There was no time to lose.
The Secret Sharer |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: shadow of a tree. Again the starlight, brighter now, aided him,
and he made out Tull's stalwart figure, and beside him the short,
froglike shape of the rider Jerry. They were silent, and they
rode on to disappear.
Venters went his way with busy, gloomy mind, revolving events of
the day, trying to reckon those brooding in the night. His
thoughts overwhelmed him. Up in that dark grove dwelt a woman who
had been his friend. And he skulked about her home, gripping a
gun stealthily as an Indian, a man without place or people or
purpose. Above her hovered the shadow of grim, hidden, secret
power. No queen could have given more royally out of a bounteous
Riders of the Purple Sage |
