| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from God The Invisible King by H. G. Wells: the true God whispers in their hearts, echoes in speech and writing,
but they avert themselves, fear-driven. For the true God has no
lash of fear. And how the foul-minded bigot, with his ill-shaven
face, his greasy skin, his thick, gesticulating hands, his
bellowings and threatenings, loves to reap this harvest of fear the
ignorant cunning of the nursery girl has sown for him! How he loves
the importance of denunciation, and, himself a malignant cripple, to
rally the company of these crippled souls to persecute and destroy
the happy children of God! . . .
Christian priestcraft turns a dreadful face to children. There is a
real wickedness of the priest that is different from other
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from McTeague by Frank Norris: open, as if maliciously. She had left the dirty pillow-case
on the floor in the hall, and she stood outside, between the
two open doors, stowing away the old pitcher and the half-
worn silk shoes. She made remarks at the top of her voice,
calling now to Miss Baker, now to Old Grannis. In a way she
brought the two old people face to face. Each time they
were forced to answer her questions it was as if they were
talking directly to each other.
"These here are first-rate shoes, Miss Baker. Look here,
Mister Grannis, get on to the shoes Miss Baker gi' me. You
ain't got a pair you don't want, have you? You two people
 McTeague |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe: we fell into the same arguments all over again, or at least so
near the same, as it would be to no purpose to repeat them.
At last I asked him warmly, what opinion he must have of my
modesty, that he could suppose I should so much as entertain
a thought of lying with two brothers, and assured him it could
never be. I added, if he was to tell me that he would never
see me more, than which nothing but death could be more
terrible, yet I could never entertain a thought so dishonourable
to myself, and so base to him; and therefore, I entreated him,
if he had one grain of respect or affection left for me, that he
would speak no more of it to me, or that he would pull his
 Moll Flanders |