| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Straight Deal by Owen Wister: worse.
Immediately after our Revolution, there was one of these heaps of
intrigue, in which we were concerned. This was at the time of the
negotiations leading to the Treaty of Paris, to which I made reference at
the close of the last section. This was in 1783. Twenty years later, in
1803, occurred the heap of jackstraws that led to the Louisiana Purchase.
Twenty years later, in 1823, occurred the heap of jackstraws from which
emerged the Monroe Doctrine. Each of these dates, dotted along through
our early decades, marks a very important crisis in our history. It is
well that they should be grouped together, because together they
disclose, so to speak, a coherent pattern. This coherent pattern is
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin by Benjamin Franklin: "Nobody, but I am very poor and in distress, and I sweeps before
gentlefolkses doors, and hopes they will give me something." I bid
her sweep the whole street clean, and I would give her a shilling;
this was at nine o'clock; at 12 she came for the shilling.
From the slowness I saw at first in her working, I could scarce believe
that the work was done so soon, and sent my servant to examine it,
who reported that the whole street was swept perfectly clean,
and all the dust plac'd in the gutter, which was in the middle;
and the next rain wash'd it quite away, so that the pavement and even
the kennel were perfectly clean.
I then judg'd that, if that feeble woman could sweep such a street in
The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart: The emptiness, the stillness were oppressive. Once I heard
footsteps coming, rhythmical steps that neither hurried nor dragged,
and seemed to mount endless staircases without coming any closer.
I realized finally that I had not quite turned off the tap, and that
the lavatory, which I had circled to reach, must be quite close.
The cat lay by the fire, its nose on its folded paws, content in the
warmth and companionship. I watched it idly. Now and then the
green wood hissed in the fire, but the cat never batted an eye.
Through an unshuttered window the lightning flashed. Suddenly the
cat looked up. It lifted its head and stared directly at the
gallery above. Then it blinked, and stared again. I was amused.
The Man in Lower Ten |
