| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Confessio Amantis by John Gower: With gret navie, which he ladde 80
Fro Troie, aryveth at Cartage,
Wher for a while his herbergage
He tok; and it betidde so,
With hire which was qweene tho
Of the Cite his aqueintance
He wan, whos name in remembrance
Is yit, and Dido sche was hote;
Which loveth Eneas so hote
Upon the wordes whiche he seide,
That al hire herte on him sche leide 90
Confessio Amantis |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: disposed of along the middle of the line, one of the Poonga-Poonga
men leading him at the end of a length of bark-rope.
The trail began to rise out of the jungle, dipping at times into
festering hollows of unwholesome vegetation, but rising more and
more over swelling, unseen hill-slopes or climbing steep hog-backs
and rocky hummocks where the forest thinned and blue patches of sky
appeared overhead.
"Close up he stop," Binu Charley warned them in a whisper.
Even as he spoke, from high overhead came the deep resonant boom of
a village drum. But the beat was slow, there was no panic in the
sound. They were directly beneath the village, and they could hear
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: woman, as even Connie's father could be warm to her, with the warmth of
a man who did himself well, and intended to, but who still could
comfort it woman with a bit of his masculine glow.
But Clifford was not like that. His whole race was not like that. They
were all inwardly hard and separate, and warmth to them was just bad
taste. You had to get on without it, and hold your own; which was all
very well if you were of the same class and race. Then you could keep
yourself cold and be very estimable, and hold your own, and enjoy the
satisfaction of holding it. But if you were of another class and
another race it wouldn't do; there was no fun merely holding your own,
and feeling you belonged to the ruling class. What was the point, when
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
