|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Almayer's Folly by Joseph Conrad:
violence of his exclamations; or will he squat down with a
good-humoured smile, and, rubbing his hands gently over his
stomach with a familiar gesture, expectorate copiously into the
brass siri-vessel, giving vent to a low, approbative murmur?
Such were Babalatchi's thoughts as he skilfully handled his
paddle, crossing the river on his way to the Rajah's campong,
whose stockades showed from behind the dense foliage of the bank
just opposite to Almayer's bungalow.
Indeed, he had a report to make. Something certain at last to
confirm the daily tale of suspicions, the daily hints of
familiarity, of stolen glances he had seen, of short and burning
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Stories From the Old Attic by Robert Harris:
were, in fact, tenured professors of philosophy, the very subject the
young man was struggling to understand. They turned to him at once
and condescended to admit him to their conversation.
"Well," said the first philosopher, pushing his glasses up the bridge
of his nose, "see here. This is a tree." And pointing to the tree
the young man was already too-intimately familiar with, concluded with
apparent satisfaction, "As Circumplexius has said in the fourth book
of his De Scientia, 'An example is the best definition.'"
"I know that is a tree," replied the youth, rubbing his forehead.
"What I want to know is, Why is it there in the first place?"
"You see," said the other philosopher to the first, "the dance of
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tono Bungay by H. G. Wells:
the suffocating comet, the dark body out of space, the burning
out of the sun, the distorted orbit, as a new and far more
possible end--as Science can see ends--to this strange by-play
of matter that we call human life. I do not believe this can be
the end; no human soul can believe in such an end and go on
living, but to it science points as a possible thing, science and
reason alike. If single human beings--if one single ricketty
infant--can be born as it were by accident and die futile, why
not the whole race? These are questions I have never answered,
that now I never attempt to answer, but the thought of quap and
its mysteries brings them back to me.