| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: Clarke--"
"I really do not care to hear about it," interrupted Betty.
"But, Betty, tell us. Wasn't it dreadful, his carrying you?" asked Alice, with
a sly glance at Betty. "You know you are so--so prudish, one may say. Did he
take you in his arms? It must have been very embarrassing for you, considering
your dislike of Mr. Clarke, and he so much in love with--"
"You hateful girls," cried Betty, throwing a pillow at Alice, who just managed
to dodge it. "I wish you would go home."
"Never mind, Betty. We will not tease anymore," said Lydia, putting her arm
around Betty. "Come, Alice, we will tell Betty you have named the day for your
wedding. See! She is all eyes now."
Betty Zane |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Pivot of Civilization by Margaret Sanger: sentimentality to blind us to the fact that health and vitality and
human growth likewise need cultivation. ``A LAISSER FAIRE policy,''
writes one investigator, ``simply allows the social sore to spread.
And a quasi LAISSER FAIRE policy wherein we allow the defective to
commit crime and then interfere and imprison him, wherein we grant the
defective the personal liberty to do as he pleases, until he pleases
to descend to a plane of living below the animal level, and try to
care for a few of his descendants who are so helpless that they can no
longer exercise that personal liberty to do as they please,''--such a
policy increases and multiplies the dangers of the over-fertile
feeble-minded.[5]
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by
an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we
trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart
loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people
confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a
tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of
obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.
When he returned from his military service Jean-Pierre Bacadou found
the old people very much aged. He remarked with pain that the work of
the farm was not satisfactorily done. The father had not the energy of
old days. The hands did not feel over them the eye of the master.
Tales of Unrest |
