| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Camille by Alexandre Dumas: For twenty-five days of the month the camellias were white, and
for five they were red; no one ever knew the reason of this
change of colour, which I mention though I can not explain it; it
was noticed both by her friends and by the habitue's of the
theatres to which she most often went. She was never seen with
any flowers but camellias. At the florist's, Madame Barjon's, she
had come to be called "the Lady of the Camellias," and the name
stuck to her.
Like all those who move in a certain set in Paris, I knew that
Marguerite had lived with some of the most fashionable young men
in society, that she spoke of it openly, and that they themselves
Camille |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: Anyway, I couldn't sleep. I heard that wind blow through the forest, and
thought my blood would freeze. The moan is the same as the night wind, the
same soft sigh, only louder and somehow pregnant with superhuman power. To
speak of it in broad daylight one seems superstitious, but to hear it in the
darkness of this lonely forest, it is fearful! I hope I am not a coward; I
certainly know I was deathly frightened. No wonder I was scared! Look at these
dead Indians, all killed in a moment. I heard the moan; I saw Silvertip
disappear, and the other two savages rise. Then something huge dropped from
the rock; a bright object seemed to circle round the savages; they uttered one
short yell, and sank to rise no more. Somehow at once I suspected that this
shadowy form, with its lightninglike movements, its glittering hatchet, was
The Spirit of the Border |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Nada the Lily by H. Rider Haggard: dead.
"Now I rested awhile, then went to the mouth of the cave and looked
out. The sun was sinking: all the depth of the forest was black, but
the light still shone on the face of the stone woman who sits forever
on the mountain. Here, then, I must bide this night, for, though the
moon shone white and full in the sky, I dared not wend towards the
plains alone with the wolves and the ghosts. And if I dared not go
alone, how much less should I dare to go bearing with me him who sat
in the cleft of the rock! Nay, here I must bide, so I went out of the
cave to the spring which flows from the rock on the right yonder and
washed my wounds and drank. Then I came back and sat in the mouth of
Nada the Lily |
