| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The People That Time Forgot by Edgar Rice Burroughs: its heart almost completely away, and yet it had lived to
charge ferociously upon me, and but for my third shot would
doubtless have slain me before it finally expired--or as Bowen
Tyler so quaintly puts it, before it knew that it was dead.
With the panther quite evidently conscious of the fact that
dissolution had overtaken it, I turned toward the girl, who was
regarding me with evident admiration and not a little awe,
though I must admit that my rifle claimed quite as much of her
attention as did I. She was quite the most wonderful animal
that I have ever looked upon, and what few of her charms her
apparel hid, it quite effectively succeeded in accentuating.
The People That Time Forgot |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe: up. I cannot say; but upon inquiry many that complained so loudly
were found in a condition to be continued; and others again,
inspection being made upon the sick person, and the sickness not
appearing infectious, or if uncertain, yet on his being content to be
carried to the pest-house, were released.
It is true that the locking up the doors of people's houses, and setting
a watchman there night and day to prevent their stirring out or any
coming to them, when perhaps the sound people in the family might
have escaped if they had been removed from the sick, looked very
hard and cruel; and many people perished in these miserable
confinements which, 'tis reasonable to believe, would not have been
A Journal of the Plague Year |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from 'Twixt Land & Sea by Joseph Conrad: from sheer envy of paternity and in strange jealousy of a sorrow
which he could never know. Man, and even the sea-man, is a
capricious animal, the creature and the victim of lost
opportunities. But he made me feel ashamed of my callousness. I
had no tears.
I listened with horribly critical detachment to that service I had
had to read myself, once or twice, over childlike men who had died
at sea. The words of hope and defiance, the winged words so
inspiring in the free immensity of water and sky, seemed to fall
wearily into the little grave. What was the use of asking Death
where her sting was, before that small, dark hole in the ground?
'Twixt Land & Sea |
