| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Amy Foster by Joseph Conrad: and, sitting by the open window, I saw, after the
windless, scorching day, the frigid splendour of a
hazy sea lying motionless under the moon. Not a
whisper, not a splash, not a stir of the shingle, not
a footstep, not a sigh came up from the earth be-
low--never a sign of life but the scent of climbing
jasmine; and Kennedy's voice, speaking behind me,
passed through the wide casement, to vanish out-
side in a chill and sumptuous stillness.
". . . The relations of shipwrecks in the
olden time tell us of much suffering. Often the
Amy Foster |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Light of Western Stars by Zane Grey: keeping to denser parts of the forest. The sun sank low, and the
shafts of gold fell with a long slant among the firs. Majesty's
hoofs made no sound on the soft ground, and Stewart strode on
without speaking. Neither his hurry nor vigilance relaxed until
at least two miles had been covered. Then he held to a straighter
course and did not send so many glances into the darkening woods.
The level of the forest began to be cut up by little hollows, all
of which sloped and widened. Presently the soft ground gave
place to bare, rocky soil. The horse snorted and tossed his
head. A sound of splashing water broke the silence. The hollow
opened into a wider one through which a little brook murmured its
The Light of Western Stars |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Start in Life by Honore de Balzac: look, the boldness of which he had never shown before. Then he turned
on Clapart.
"Listen to me, monsieur," said the youth, transformed into a man. "You
worry my poor mother devilishly, and that's your right, for she is,
unfortunately, your wife. But as for me, it is another thing. I shall
be of age in a few months; and you have no rights over me even as a
minor. I have never asked anything of you. Thanks to Monsieur Moreau,
I have never cost you one penny, and I owe you no gratitude.
Therefore, I say, let me alone!"
Clapart, hearing this apostrophe, slunk back to his sofa in the
chimney corner. The reasoning and the inward fury of the young man,
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