| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Dream Life and Real Life by Olive Schreiner: sat up. A great and fierce thunderstorm had been raging, and a few of the
cool drops had fallen through the crevice in the rocks. She pushed the
asparagus branch aside, and looked out, with her little hands folded about
her knees. She heard the thunder rolling, and saw the red torrents rush
among the stones on their way to the river. She heard the roar of the
river as it now rolled, angry and red, bearing away stumps and trees on its
muddy water. She listened and smiled, and pressed closer to the rock that
took care of her. She pressed the palm of her hand against it. When you
have no one to love you, you love the dumb things very much. When the sun
set, it cleared up. Then the little girl ate some kippersol, and lay down
again to sleep. She thought there was nothing so nice as to sleep. When
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from My Antonia by Willa Cather: His sociability was stronger than his acquisitive instinct.
He liked to live day by day and night by night, sharing in the excitement
of the crowd.--Yet his wife had managed to hold him here on a farm,
in one of the loneliest countries in the world.
I could see the little chap, sitting here every evening by
the windmill, nursing his pipe and listening to the silence;
the wheeze of the pump, the grunting of the pigs,
an occasional squawking when the hens were disturbed by a rat.
It did rather seem to me that Cuzak had been made the instrument
of Antonia's special mission. This was a fine life, certainly,
but it wasn't the kind of life he had wanted to live.
My Antonia |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of Unrest by Joseph Conrad: come to look upon him as upon something inanimate, as a part of our
friend's trappings of state--like that sword he had carried, or the
fringed red umbrella displayed during an official progress. Karain
did not visit us in the afternoon as usual. A message of greeting
and a present of fruit and vegetables came off for us before sunset.
Our friend paid us like a banker, but treated us like a prince. We sat
up for him till midnight. Under the stern awning bearded Jackson
jingled an old guitar and sang, with an execrable accent, Spanish
love-songs; while young Hollis and I, sprawling on the deck, had a
game of chess by the light of a cargo lantern. Karain did not appear.
Next day we were busy unloading, and heard that the Rajah was unwell.
Tales of Unrest |
