| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Heritage of the Desert by Zane Grey: politely said they had enjoyed my call, but I wasn't to come again."
"One man to kill Holderness!" repeated Hare.
August Naab cast at the speaker one of his far-seeing glances; then he
shook himself, as if to throw off the grip of something hard and
inevitable. "I'm still master here," he said, and his voice showed the
conquest of his passions.
"I give up Silver Cup and my stock. Maybe that will content Holderness."
Some days went by pleasantly for Hare, as he rested from his long
exertions. Naab's former cheer and that of his family reasserted itself
once the decision was made, and the daily life went on as usual. The
sons worked in the fields by day, and in the evening played at pitching
The Heritage of the Desert |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Stories From the Old Attic by Robert Harris: lost' before she said, 'You must be kidding,' for as it stands, I
can't say I'm making much progress."
But "Steadfast" was probably Sir Percival's middle name (or his
uncle's middle name, anyway), so the knight decided to approach
Arissa yet again. After all, Arissa seemed to be pretty okay,
and Sir Percival wanted a date. In a few days, then, Arissa
heard a familiar question in a familiar voice: "Arissa, sweetheart,
let me ensconce you in my carriage and take you on a date." To
which Arissa replied, "Sorry Perce, I'm busy. I've got to
wash my hair."
To which the knight: "Well, when could you go then?"
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems of William Blake by William Blake: And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.
II.
O little Cloud the virgin said, I charge thee to tell me
Why thou complainest now when in one hour thou fade away:
Then we shall seek thee but not find: ah Thel is like to thee.
I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.
The Cloud then shewd his golden head & his bright form emerg'd.
Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel.
O virgin know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs
Where Luvah doth renew his horses: lookst thou on my youth.
And fearest thou because I vanish and am seen no more.
Poems of William Blake |
