| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from A Lover's Complaint by William Shakespeare: The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of Heaven's fell rage
Some beauty peeped through lattice of sear'd age.
Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,
And often reading what contents it bears;
As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Call of the Canyon by Zane Grey: have been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark, however,
that he was going to be harder than ever to understand. What had she said
or done to make him retreat within himself, aloof, impersonal, unfamiliar?
He did not impress her as loverlike. What irony of fate was this that held
her there yearning for his kisses and caresses as never before, while he
watched the fire, and talked as to a mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and
far away? Or did she merely imagine that? Only one thing could she be sure
of at that moment, and it was that pride would never be her ally.
"Glenn, look here," she said, sliding her chair close to his and holding
out tier left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond on the
third finger.
The Call of the Canyon |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: glade, he plunged into the thicket.
An hour passed. A dark stream crept from the quiet figures toward the spring.
It dyed the moss and the green violet leaves. Slowly it wound its way to the
clear water, dripping between the pale blue flowers. The little fall below the
spring was no longer snowy white; blood had tinged it red.
A dog came bounding into the glade. He leaped the brook, hesitated on the
bank, and lowered his nose to sniff at the water. He bounded up the bank to
the cavern.
A long, mournful howl broke the wilderness's quiet.
Another hour passed. The birds were silent; the insects still. The sun sank
behind the trees, and the shades of evening gathered.
The Spirit of the Border |
