| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne: lava, ashes, and scoriae, of which I could see lengthened screes
streaming down the sides of the mountain like flowing hair.
Such was the succession of phenomena which produced Iceland, all
arising from the action of internal fire; and to suppose that the
mass within did not still exist in a state of liquid incandescence
was absurd; and nothing could surpass the absurdity of fancying that
it was possible to reach the earth's centre.
So I felt a little comforted as we advanced to the assault of Snæfell.
The way was growing more and more arduous, the ascent steeper and
steeper; the loose fragments of rock trembled beneath us, and the
utmost care was needed to avoid dangerous falls.
Journey to the Center of the Earth |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: he was glad things had happened as they did. He was like a boy
again, busy with plans and preparations from morning till night.
He used to sit up half the night talking things over with me. That
was after I had shown him that I was really resolved to go along.
"He had made his start, you know, in the South Seas--pearls and
pearl shell--and he was sure that more fortunes, in trove of one
sort and another, were to be picked up. Cocoanut-planting was his
particular idea, with trading, and maybe pearling, along with other
things, until the plantation should come into bearing. He traded
off his yacht for a schooner, the Miele, and away we went. I took
care of him and studied navigation. He was his own skipper. We
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Lily of the Valley by Honore de Balzac: With my ear pressed to a chink I could hear her equable, gentle
breathing, like that of a child. When chilled to the bone I went back
to bed and slept tranquilly till morning. I know not what prenatal
influence, what nature within me, causes the delight I take in going
to the brink of precipices, sounding the gulf of evil, seeking to know
its depths, feeling its icy chill, and retreating in deep emotion.
That hour of night passed on the threshold of her door where I wept
with rage,--though she never knew that on the morrow her foot had trod
upon my tears and kisses, on her virtue first destroyed and then
respected, cursed and adored,--that hour, foolish in the eyes of many,
was nevertheless an inspiration of the same mysterious impulse which
The Lily of the Valley |
