| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Wrecker by Stevenson & Osbourne: my peace; and after an exchange of words at the telephone to
assure ourselves he was at home, we set out for the attorney's
office.
The endless streets of any American city pass, from one end to
another, through strange degrees and vicissitudes of splendour
and distress, running under the same name between
monumental warehouses, the dens and taverns of thieves, and
the sward and shrubbery of villas. In San Francisco, the sharp
inequalities of the ground, and the sea bordering on so many
sides, greatly exaggerate these contrasts. The street for which
we were now bound took its rise among blowing sands,
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of the West by O. Henry: savagely--as a man will. It came out of the bureau, and bruised both
his shins--as a drawer will. An old, folded yellow letter without an
envelope fell from somewhere--probably from where it had lodged in one
of the upper drawers. Ranse took it to the lamp and read it curiously.
Then he took his hat and walked to one of the Mexican /jacals/.
"Tia Juana," he said, "I would like to talk with you a while."
An old, old Mexican woman, white-haired and wonderfully wrinkled, rose
from a stool.
"Sit down," said Ranse, removing his hat and taking the one chair in
the /jacal/. "Who am I, Tia Juana?" he asked, speaking Spanish.
"Don Ransom, our good friend and employer. Why do you ask?" answered
 Heart of the West |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Madam How and Lady Why by Charles Kingsley: on condition that you do not laugh at, or despise, those good and
honest and able people who do not know or care about these things,
because they have other things to think of: like old John out
there ploughing. He would not believe you--he would hardly
believe me--if we told him that this stone had been once a swarm
of living things, of exquisite shapes and glorious colours. And
yet he can plough and sow, and reap and mow, and fell and strip,
and hedge and ditch, and give his neighbours sound advice, and
take the measure of a man's worth from ten minutes' talk, and say
his prayers, and keep his temper, and pay his debts,--which last
three things are more than a good many folks can do who fancy
|