| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Desert Gold by Zane Grey: he could not have told why. The girl was just like Dick as he used
to be.
Their manner of speaking also reminded Belding of Dick. They
talked of the ride from Ash Fork down to the border, of the
ugly and torn-up Casita, of the heat and dust and cactus along
the trail. Presently Nell came in, now cool and sweet in white,
with a red rose at her breast. Belding had never been so proud
of her. He saw that she meant to appear well in the eyes of
Dick's people, and began to have a faint perception of what the
ordeal was for her. Belding imagined the sooner the Gales were
told that Dick was to marry Nell the better for all concerned, and
Desert Gold |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes: introduce miracles without any reason or object except that they think
some such miracle, or transformation as they call it, will come in
well to astonish stupid people and draw them to the play. All this
tends to the prejudice of the truth and the corruption of history, nay
more, to the reproach of the wits of Spain; for foreigners who
scrupulously observe the laws of the drama look upon us as barbarous
and ignorant, when they see the absurdity and nonsense of the plays we
produce. Nor will it be a sufficient excuse to say that the chief
object well-ordered governments have in view when they permit plays to
be performed in public is to entertain the people with some harmless
amusement occasionally, and keep it from those evil humours which
Don Quixote |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: dull roar sounded above the babble of the brook. It grew louder as he threaded
his way carefully over the stones. Spots of white foam flecked the brook.
Passing under the gray, stained cliff, Joe turned around a rocky corner, and
came to an abrupt end of the ravine. A waterfall marked the spot where the
brook entered. The water was brown as it took the leap, light green when it
thinned out; and below, as it dashed on the stones, it became a beautiful,
sheeny white.
Upon a flat rock, so near the cascade that spray flew over him, sat another
hunter. The roaring falls drowned all other sounds, yet the man roused from
his dreamy contemplation of the waterfall when Joe rounded the corner.
"I heerd four shots," he said, as Joe came up.
The Spirit of the Border |
