| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Emma by Jane Austen: than where he had placed himself. His tall, firm, upright figure,
among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men,
was such as Emma felt must draw every body's eyes; and, excepting her
own partner, there was not one among the whole row of young men
who could be compared with him.--He moved a few steps nearer,
and those few steps were enough to prove in how gentlemanlike
a manner, with what natural grace, he must have danced, would he
but take the trouble.--Whenever she caught his eye, she forced him
to smile; but in general he was looking grave. She wished he could
love a ballroom better, and could like Frank Churchill better.--
He seemed often observing her. She must not flatter herself that he
Emma |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: railed-off place at the end, where a scale, a telegraph instrument
and a chair constituted the entire furnishing.
The station agent was a young man with a shrewd face. He stopped
hammering a piece of wood over a hole in the floor to ask where we
wanted to go.
"We're not going," said McKnight, "we're coming. Have a cigar?"
The agent took it with an inquiring glance, first at it and then
at us.
"We want to ask you a few questions," began McKnight, perching
himself on the railing and kicking the chair forward for me. "Or,
rather, this gentleman does."
The Man in Lower Ten |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The House of Dust by Conrad Aiken: 'But what I've got to say--IS--serious!'
Then she could see how, suddenly, he would sober,
His eyes would darken, he'd look so terrifying--
He always did--and what could she do but cry?
Perhaps, then, he would guess--perhaps he wouldn't.
And if he didn't, but asked her 'What's the matter?'--
She knew she'd never tell--just say she was sick . . .
And after that, when would she dare again?
And what would he do--even suppose she told him?
If it were Felix! If it were only Felix!--
She wouldn't mind so much. But as it was,
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