| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Moran of the Lady Letty by Frank Norris: have to be maintained only for a day or two.
He left the girl on board the schooner and returned to the
derelict with the axes. He found Kitchell on the house, just
returned from a hasty survey of the prize.
"She's a daisy," vociferated the Captain, as Wilbur came aboard.
"I've been havin' a look 'round. She's brand-new. See the date
on the capst'n-head? Christiania is her hailin' port--built there;
but it's her papers I'm after. Then we'll know where we're at.
How's the kid?"
"She's all right," answered Wilbur, before he could collect his
thoughts. But the Captain thought he had reference to the
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: to the camp, and tell this tale? Even then it would be but my word
against his. No, he had me in a forked stick. I must let him go, and
trust that Heaven would avenge his crime, since I could not. Moreover,
by now my first rage was cooling, and to execute a man thus--
"Hernan Pereira," I said, "you are a liar and a coward. You tried to
butcher me because Marie loves me and hates you, and you want to force
her to marry you. Yet I cannot shoot you down in cold blood as you
deserve. I leave it to God to punish you, as, soon or late, He will,
here or hereafter; you who thought to slaughter me and trust to the
hyenas to hide your crime, as they would have done before morning. Get
you gone before I change my mind, and be swift."
Marie |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare: For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
VI
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