| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from 1984 by George Orwell: all, far more feminine. Her short hair and boyish overalls merely added
to the effect. As he took her in his arms a wave of synthetic violets
flooded his nostrils. He remembered the half-darkness of a basement
kitchen, and a woman's cavernous mouth. It was the very same scent that
she had used; but at the moment it did not seem to matter.
'Scent too!' he said.
'Yes, dear, scent too. And do you know what I'm going to do next? I'm
going to get hold of a real woman's frock from somewhere and wear it
instead of these bloody trousers. I'll wear silk stockings and high-heeled
shoes! In this room I'm going to be a woman, not a Party comrade.'
They flung their clothes off and climbed into the huge mahogany bed. It
 1984 |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Ruling Passion by Henry van Dyke: He might as well have tried to make the island turn around by
pushing at one of the little spruce trees that clung to the rock.
Then it dawned fearfully upon him that something must be wrong.
Trembling with anxiety, he climbed up and peered in among the
wheels.
The escapement wheel was cracked clean through, as if some one had
struck it with the head of an axe, and one of the pallets of the
spindle was stuck fast in the crack. He could knock it out easily
enough, but when the crack came around again, the pallet would catch
and the clock would stop once more. It was a fatal injury.
Baptiste turned white, then red, gripped his head in his hands, and
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard: "I thank you, O Dust, though I am sorry to have troubled you for so
small a matter. So, so," he went on presently, "a royal boy-child is
dead, and you think by witchcraft. Let us find out if he died by
witchcraft or as others die, by command of the Heavens that need them.
What! Here is one mark which I have left. Look! It grows red, it is
full of spots! The child died with a twisted face."
"Izwa! Izwa! Izwa!" (crescendo).
"This death was not natural. Now, was it witchcraft or was it poison?
Both, I think, both. And whose was the child? Not that of a son of the
King, I think. Oh, yes, you hear me, People, you hear me; but be
silent; I do not need your help. No, not of a son; of a daughter,
 Child of Storm |