| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis: him and kissed the place to make it well, and though he tried to be gruff and
mature, he yielded to her and was glad to be babied.
The ambulance whirled under the hooded carriage-entrance of the hospital, and
instantly he was reduced to a zero in the nightmare succession of cork-floored
halls, endless doors open on old women sitting up in bed, an elevator, the
anesthetizing room, a young interne contemptuous of husbands. He was
permitted to kiss his wife; he saw a thin dark nurse fit the cone over her
mouth and nose; he stiffened at a sweet and treacherous odor; then he was
driven out, and on a high stool in a laboratory he sat dazed, longing to see
her once again, to insist that he had always loved her, had never for a second
loved anybody else or looked at anybody else. In the laboratory he was
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Tarzan the Untamed by Edgar Rice Burroughs: upon the rope was removed and a moment later Tarzan of
the Apes raised his body above the side and threw a leg over
the edge. He glanced forward at Usanga and then, placing
his mouth close to the girl's ear he cried: "Have you ever
piloted a plane?" The girl nodded a quick affirmative.
"Have you the courage to climb up there beside the black
and seize the control while I take care of him?"
The girl looked toward Usanga and shuddered. "Yes," she
replied, "but my feet are bound."
Tarzan drew his hunting knife from its sheath and reaching
down, severed the thongs that bound her ankles. Then the
Tarzan the Untamed |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Works of Samuel Johnson by Samuel Johnson: either stop my course, or so change it as to want a
book? I suppose it cannot be imagined, that any
of these diversions will soon be at an end. There
will always be gardens, and a park, and auctions,
and shows, and playhouses, and cards; visits will
always be paid, and clothes always be worn; and how
can I have time unemployed upon my hands?
But I am most at a loss to guess for what
purpose they related such tragick stories of the cruelty,
perfidy, and artifices of men, who, if they ever were
so malicious and destructive, have certainly now
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