| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: brought forward strong enough to convict her. My tale was not one
to announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as
madness by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the creator,
who would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the existence of
the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance which I had
let loose upon the world?
We were soon joined by Elizabeth. Time had altered her since I
last beheld her; it had endowed her with loveliness surpassing the
beauty of her childish years. There was the same candour, the same
vivacity, but it was allied to an expression more full of sensibility
and intellect. She welcomed me with the greatest affection.
Frankenstein |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Dust by Mr. And Mrs. Haldeman-Julius: Rose had always believed love a breath of beauty that would hold
its purity even in a hovel, but she had not been prepared for the
sordidness that seemed to envelop her as she crossed the
threshold of the first home of her married life. Martin, held in
the clutch of the strained embarrassment that invariably laid its
icy fingers around his heart whenever he found himself confronted
by emotion, had suggested that Rose go in while he put up the
horse and fed the stock. "Don't be scared if you find it pretty
rough," he had warned, to which her light answer had lilted back,
"Oh, I shan't mind."
And, as she stood in the doorway a moment later, her eyes taking
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Nana, Miller's Daughter, Captain Burle, Death of Olivier Becaille by Emile Zola: a burst of wonderment.
"Zoe, here's spinach! Do come. Oh, look at the artichokes! They
are funny. So they grow in the ground, do they? Now, what can that
be? I don't know it. Do come, Zoe, perhaps you know."
The lady's maid never budged an inch. Madame must really be raving
mad. For now the rain was coming down in torrents, and the little
white silk sunshade was aly this time pulled up before the park gates. A
side door was opened, and the gardener, a tall, dry fellow, made his
appearance, cap in hand. Nana made an effort to regain her dignity,
for the driver seemed now to be suppressing a laugh behind his dry,
speechless lips. She refrained from setting off at a run and
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