| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Tapestried Chamber by Walter Scott: trophy of his conquest. The English shouted in triumph. But the
despairing cry of the aged champion, who saw his country
dishonoured, and his sword, long the terror of their race, in the
possession of an Englishman, was heard high above the
acclamations of victory. He seemed for an instant animated by
all his wonted power; for he started from the rock on which he
sat, and while the garments with which he had been invested fell
from his wasted frame, and showed the ruins of his strength, he
tossed his arms wildly to heaven, and uttered a cry of
indignation, horror, and despair, which, tradition says, was
heard to a preternatural distance, and resembled the cry of a
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Last War: A World Set Free by H. G. Wells: had done so--he mixed that perhaps with another dream almost as
daring, that one day a mammoth had been beset; and therewith
began fiction--pointing a way to achievement--and the august
prophetic procession of tales.
For scores and hundreds of centuries, for myriads of generations
that life of our fathers went on. From the beginning to the
ripening of that phase of human life, from the first clumsy
eolith of rudely chipped flint to the first implements of
polished stone, was two or three thousand centuries, ten or
fifteen thousand generations. So slowly, by human standards, did
humanity gather itself together out of the dim intimations of the
The Last War: A World Set Free |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett: here; but I used to sort of shy by in Joanna's day, an' cast a
little somethin' ashore--some apples or a couple o' pears if I had
'em--on the grass, where she'd be sure to see."
I stood watching while Captain Bowden cleverly found his way
back to deeper water. "You needn't make no haste," he called to
me; "I'll keep within call. Joanna lays right up there in the far
corner o' the field. There used to be a path led to the place. I
always knew her well. I was out here to the funeral."
I found the path; it was touching to discover that this lonely
spot was not without its pilgrims. Later generations will know
less and less of Joanna herself, but there are paths trodden to the
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