| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen: fortune on one side, there can be no occasion for any on
the other. No matter which has it, so that there is enough.
I hate the idea of one great fortune looking out for another.
And to marry for money I think the wickedest thing
in existence. Good day. We shall be very glad to see
you at Fullerton, whenever it is convenient." And away
she went. It was not in the power of all his gallantry
to detain her longer. With such news to communicate,
and such a visit to prepare for, her departure was not
to be delayed by anything in his nature to urge; and she
hurried away, leaving him to the undivided consciousness
Northanger Abbey |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Maggie: A Girl of the Streets by Stephen Crane: under his eye. Seeing the girl walk on as if such a young man as
he was not in existence, he looked back transfixed with interest.
He stared glassily for a moment, but gave a slight convulsive start
when he discerned that she was neither new, Parisian, nor theatrical.
He wheeled about hastily and turned his stare into the air,
like a sailor with a search-light.
A stout gentleman, with pompous and philanthropic whiskers,
went stolidly by, the broad of his back sneering at the girl.
A belated man in business clothes, and in haste to catch a
car, bounced against her shoulder. "Hi, there, Mary, I beg your
pardon! Brace up, old girl." He grasped her arm to steady her,
Maggie: A Girl of the Streets |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley: fought in the old times. And from off that island came strange
flowers, which linger still about this land:- the Cornish heath,
and Cornish moneywort, and the delicate Venus's hair, and the
London-pride which covers the Kerry mountains, and the little pink
butterwort of Devon, and the great blue butterwort of Ireland, and
the Connemara heath, and the bristle-fern of the Turk waterfall,
and many a strange plant more; all fairy tokens left for wise men
and good children from off St. Brandan's Isle.
Now when Tom got there, he found that the isle stood all on
pillars, and that its roots were full of caves. There were pillars
of black basalt, like Staffa; and pillars of green and crimson
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