Recognise key words in a short text

… and Dr. Frank twisted the top of the contraption with care. The midnight silence of the great library was interrupted by a soft, yet distinct ‘click’. “Is that it?” he whispered “did I do it?”.

A soft hum came from beneath his feet, followed quickly by a vibration he could feel through the floor. What sounded like stone grinding against stone echoed from the dark corridor to his left. Could this be the secret entrance the dead man was talking about? …

… what a cliché to fall for the handsome pool-boy. Sandra felt uneasy about the idea, and a little guilty. Mind you, she thought, there must be a reason housewife and pool-boy relationships have become cliché. I couldn’t possibly be the first to feel arousal for the help! She slipped on her silk gown, the mildly see-through one, and walked confidently downstairs …

… “So if the book was right, the portal will open if I ask in Elvish” Luna muttered “the problem is, I don’t know any Elvish.”
The others sighed. Davod spoke up “Are you telling me that you bought us all the way from The Mines, promising riches beyond count, and you can’t even get the bloody door open?”
“Let’s see if Elvish magic is any match for Dwarven adamantine!” Stam raised his warhammer in the air, and swung it with all his force …

… Daniel stood petrified. It can’t be… no… I won’t accept it. His mind had lost all connection with his body. He wanted to move. He HAD TO move. It was crawling closer, no … shuffling closer. Its side-to-side movements like the swaying of a lion’s tail, hypnotising and terrifying.

Is this real? Am I dreaming? His mind was reaching for solutions to the visual mystery that was creeping closer. What is this thing? He felt warmth in his trousers, but didn’t react. He didn’t even flinch when its ‘arm’ reached out and coiled itself around his leg. Darkness followed …

I met Paul in a pub near Trafalgar Square, on a Tuesday in 1959, at about 9pm. He’d just finished a set and was having a pint at the bar. I introduced myself as a record producer. (That was a laugh, the only records I had produced up until then were jazz singles, and not very successful ones either). He shook my hand, I bought a round, we talked. Mostly about the music scene in London and Liverpool.

Of course I didn’t know it then, but there in that pub on a rainy Tuesday in 1959, the music career of the most popular British guitarist got into gear, and I was driving.