| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: simply couldn't plaster her stomach against some 'creature's' stomach.
She hated the conglomerate mass of nearly nude flesh on the Lido: there
was hardly enough water to wet them all. She disliked Sir Alexander and
Lady Cooper. She did not want Michaelis or anybody else trailing her.
The happiest times were when she got Hilda to go with her away across
the lagoon, far across to some lonely shingle-bank, where they could
bathe quite alone, the gondola remaining on the inner side of the reef.
Then Giovanni got another gondolier to help him, because it was a long
way and he sweated terrifically in the sun. Giovanni was very nice:
affectionate, as the Italians are, and quite passionless. The Italians
are not passionate: passion has deep reserves. They are easily moved,
 Lady Chatterley's Lover |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Woodlanders by Thomas Hardy: from every bare twig; the sky had no color, and the trees rose
before him as haggard, gray phantoms, whose days of substantiality
were passed. Melbury seldom saw Winterborne now, but he believed
him to be occupying a lonely hut just beyond the boundary of Mrs.
Charmond's estate, though still within the circuit of the
woodland. The timber-merchant's thin legs stalked on through the
pale, damp scenery, his eyes on the dead leaves of last year;
while every now and then a hasty "Ay?" escaped his lips in reply
to some bitter proposition.
His notice was attracted by a thin blue haze of smoke, behind
which arose sounds of voices and chopping: bending his steps that
 The Woodlanders |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from An Episode Under the Terror by Honore de Balzac: rotten with damp and warped by the sun; evidently the cold must find
its way inside. The house standing thus quite by itself looked like
some old tower that Time had forgotten to destroy. A faint light shone
from the attic windows pierced at irregular distances in the roof;
otherwise the whole building was in total darkness.
Meanwhile the old lady climbed not without difficulty up the rough,
clumsily built staircase, with a rope by way of a hand-rail. At the
door of the lodging in the attic she stopped and tapped mysteriously;
an old man brought forward a chair for her. She dropped into it at
once.
"Hide! hide!" she exclaimed, looking up at him. "Seldom as we leave
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