| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg by Mark Twain: emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He
would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his
stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He
said:
"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both
of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have
happened to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to
me--"
The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled
man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he
couldn't get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his
The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: Marshal Marmont; afterward captain in the 2d Regiment of Mounted
Rifles in the Polish army--such as it existed up to 1830 in the
reduced kingdom established by the Congress of Vienna--I must say
that from all that more distant past, known to me traditionally
and a little de visu, and called out by the words of the man just
gone away, he remains the most incomplete figure. It is obvious
that I must have seen him in '64, for it is certain that he would
not have missed the opportunity of seeing my mother for what he
must have known would be the last time. From my early boyhood to
this day, if I try to call up his image, a sort of mist rises
before my eyes, mist in which I perceive vaguely only a neatly
A Personal Record |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Treatise on Parents and Children by George Bernard Shaw: the room, taking two steps backward whenever Monsieur Daleroze calls
out "Hop!" Oh yes: I know all about these wonderful schools that you
cannot keep children or even adults out of, and these teachers whom
their pupils not only obey without coercion, but adore. And if you
will tell me roughly how many Masons and Montessoris and Dalcrozes you
think you can pick up in Europe for salaries of from thirty shillings
to five pounds a week, I will estimate your chances of converting your
millions of little scholastic hells into little scholastic heavens.
If you are a distressed gentlewoman starting to make a living, you can
still open a little school; and you can easily buy a secondhand brass
plate inscribed PESTALOZZIAN INSTITUTE and nail it to your door,
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