| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald: friend, lay down my life for a friendall because these things may
be the best possible expression of myself; yet I have not one
drop of the milk of human kindness."
The problem of evil had solidified for Amory into the problem of
sex. He was beginning to identify evil with the strong phallic
worship in Brooke and the early Wells. Inseparably linked with
evil was beautybeauty, still a constant rising tumult; soft in
Eleanor's voice, in an old song at night, rioting deliriously
through life like superimposed waterfalls, half rhythm, half
darkness. Amory knew that every time he had reached toward it
longingly it had leered out at him with the grotesque face of
This Side of Paradise |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Vendetta by Honore de Balzac: was agreed between them that if, on class-days when they could not see
each other, any important political event occurred, Ginevra was to
inform him by singing certain Corsican melodies then agreed upon.
The following day Mademoiselle Thirion informed all the members of the
class, under pledge of secrecy that Ginevra di Piombo had a lover, a
young man who came during the hours for the lesson, and concealed
himself in the garret beyond the studio.
"You, who take her part," she said to Mademoiselle Roguin, "watch her
carefully, and you will see how she spends her time."
Ginevra was, therefore, observed with diabolical attention. They
listened to her songs, they watched her glances. At times, when she
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad: the ever-active Rose, in great bursts of voices and peals of
laughter. . . .
I felt tears come into my eyes at the memory of her laughter, the
true memory of the senses almost more penetrating than the reality
itself. It haunted me. All that appertained to her haunted me
with the same awful intimacy, her whole form in the familiar pose,
her very substance in its colour and texture, her eyes, her lips,
the gleam of her teeth, the tawny mist of her hair, the smoothness
of her forehead, the faint scent that she used, the very shape,
feel, and warmth of her high-heeled slipper that would sometimes in
the heat of the discussion drop on the floor with a crash, and
The Arrow of Gold |
