| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar by Edgar Rice Burroughs: who esteemed the life of an unbeliever less
highly than that of a dog. Werper loved life. What
was this woman to him, anyway? She was a European,
doubtless, a member of organized society. He was an
outcast. The hand of every white man was against him.
She was his natural enemy, and if he refused to lend
himself to her undoing, Achmet Zek would have him
killed.
"You hesitate," murmured the Arab.
"I was but weighing the chances of success," lied
Werper, "and my reward. As a European I can gain
Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy: cynical indifference personal to himself, showing its
presence even in the regularly interchanging fustian folds,
now in the left leg, now in the right, as he paced along.
What was really peculiar, however, in this couple's
progress, and would have attracted the attention of any
casual observer otherwise disposed to overlook them, was the
perfect silence they preserved. They walked side by side in
such a way as to suggest afar off the low, easy,
confidential chat of people full of reciprocity; but on
closer view it could be discerned that the man was reading,
or pretending to read, a ballad sheet which he kept before
The Mayor of Casterbridge |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from In a German Pension by Katherine Mansfield: the piano, and went out again.
When the door was closed we raised a triumphant cry! It was the first time
he had ever been known to enter the salon. Who could tell what the Future
held?
Days lengthened into weeks. Still we were together, and still the solitary
little figure, head bowed as though under the weight of the spectacles,
haunted me. He entered with the black bag, he retired with the black
bag--and that was all.
At last the manager of the pension told us the Baron was leaving the next
day.
"Oh," I thought, "surely he cannot drift into obscurity--be lost without
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