| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Just Folks by Edgar A. Guest: A row of blisters mar his hands;
He is in constant pain.
But lame and weak as father is,
He swears he'll lick us all
If we dare even speak about
The day he played baseball.
About Boys
Show me the boy who never threw
A stone at someone's cat;
Or never hurled a snowball swift
At someone's high silk hat.
Just Folks |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells: my collar had burst away from its fastener. A few minutes
before, there had only been three real things before me--the
immensity of the night and space and nature, my own feeble-
ness and anguish, and the near approach of death. Now it
was as if something turned over, and the point of view altered
abruptly. There was no sensible transition from one state of
mind to the other. I was immediately the self of every day
again--a decent, ordinary citizen. The silent common, the
impulse of my flight, the starting flames, were as if they had
been in a dream. I asked myself had these latter things indeed
happened? I could not credit it.
War of the Worlds |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Second Home by Honore de Balzac: to send word to Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille. Francoise having been
duly informed, it was decided that a commissionaire should go to the
Rue Taitbout to inform the young relation whose influence was so
disquieting to the four women; still, they hoped that the Auvergnat
would be too late in bringing back the person who so certainly held
the first place in the widow Crochard's affections. The widow,
evidently in the enjoyment of a thousand crowns a year, would not have
been so fondly cherished by this feminine trio, but that neither of
them, nor Francoise herself knew of her having any heir. The wealth
enjoyed by Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille, whom Madame Crochard, in
obedience to the traditions of the older opera, never allowed herself
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