|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne:
been complete had the Rangoon been forced to retreat before
the violence of wind and waves. Each delay filled him with hope,
for it became more and more probable that Fogg would be obliged
to remain some days at Hong Kong; and now the heavens themselves
became his allies, with the gusts and squalls. It mattered not
that they made him sea-sick--he made no account of this inconvenience;
and, whilst his body was writhing under their effects, his spirit bounded
with hopeful exultation.
Passepartout was enraged beyond expression by the unpropitious weather.
Everything had gone so well till now! Earth and sea had seemed to be
at his master's service; steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and steam
Around the World in 80 Days
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Secret Places of the Heart by H. G. Wells:
performing antiquated puerile mysteries at his altar. He was
just their excuse for doing it all."
"Sky-scrapers?" she conceded. "An early display of the sky-
scraper spirit. . . . You are doing your best to make me feel
thoroughly at home."
"You are more at home here still than in that new country of
ours over the Atlantic. But it seems to me now that I do
begin to remember building this cathedral and all the other
cathedrals we built in Europe. . . . It was the fun of
building made us do it. . . "
"H'm," she said. "And my sky-scrapers?"
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Chita: A Memory of Last Island by Lafcadio Hearn:
lake or bay; and sometimes the swamp-forest visibly thins away
from these shores into wastes of reedy morass where, even of
breathless nights, the quaggy soil trembles to a sound like
thunder of breakers on a coast: the storm-roar of billions of
reptile voices chanting in cadence,--rhythmically surging in
stupendous crescendo and diminuendo,--a monstrous and appalling
chorus of frogs! ....
Panting, screaming, scraping her bottom over the sand-bars,--all
day the little steamer strives to reach the grand blaze of blue
open water below the marsh-lands; and perhaps she may be
fortunate enough to enter the Gulf about the time of sunset. For