| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson: me. "Alan!" I said; "if ye cannae help me, I must just die
here."
He started up sitting, and looked at me.
"It's true," said I. "I'm by with it. O, let me get into the
bield of a house -- I'll can die there easier." I had no need to
pretend; whether I chose or not, I spoke in a weeping voice that
would have melted a heart of stone.
"Can ye walk?" asked Alan.
"No," said I, "not without help. This last hour my legs have
been fainting under me; I've a stitch in my side like a red-hot
iron; I cannae breathe right. If I die, ye'll can forgive me,
Kidnapped |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley: bargain.
He knew as well as a stag, that if he backed he might throw the
hounds out. So the first thing he did when he was over the wall
was to make the neatest double sharp to his right, and run along
under the wall for nearly half a mile.
Whereby Sir John, and the keeper, and the steward, and the
gardener, and the ploughman, and the dairymaid, and all the hue-
and-cry together, went on ahead half a mile in the very opposite
direction, and inside the wall, leaving him a mile off on the
outside; while Tom heard their shouts die away in the woods and
chuckled to himself merrily.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: Nothing was wanting on Mrs. Palmer's side that constant
and friendly good humour could do, to make them feel
themselves welcome. The openness and heartiness of her
manner more than atoned for that want of recollection
and elegance which made her often deficient in the forms
of politeness; her kindness, recommended by so pretty
a face, was engaging; her folly, though evident
was not disgusting, because it was not conceited;
and Elinor could have forgiven every thing but her laugh.
The two gentlemen arrived the next day to a very
late dinner, affording a pleasant enlargement of the party,
Sense and Sensibility |
