| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Golden Threshold by Sarojini Naidu: any one who seemed to exist on such "large draughts of
intellectual day" as this child of seventeen, to whom one could
tell all one's personal troubles and agitations, as to a wise old
woman. In the East, maturity comes early; and this child had
already lived through all a woman's life. But there was
something else, something hardly personal, something which
belonged to a consciousness older than the Christian, which I
realised, wondered at, and admired, in her passionate
tranquillity of mind, before which everything mean and trivial
and temporary caught fire and burnt away in smoke. Her body was
never without suffering, or her heart without conflict; but
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Iliad by Homer: doing so, Hector took aim at him with a spear. Teucer saw the
spear coming and swerved aside, whereon it hit Amphimachus, son
of Cteatus son of Actor, in the chest as he was coming into
battle, and his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily
to the ground. Hector sprang forward to take Amphimachus's helmet
from off his temples, and in a moment Ajax threw a spear at him,
but did not wound him, for he was encased all over in his
terrible armour; nevertheless the spear struck the boss of his
shield with such force as to drive him back from the two corpses,
which the Achaeans then drew off. Stichius and Menestheus,
captains of the Athenians, bore away Amphimachus to the host of
The Iliad |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett: stones which all the walls that industry could devise had hardly
begun to clear away off the land. In the narrow field I noticed
some stout stakes, apparently planted at random in the grass and
among the hills of potatoes, but carefully painted yellow and white
to match the house, a neat sharp-edged little dwelling, which
looked strangely modern for its owner. I should have much
sooner believed that the smart young wholesale egg merchant of the
Landing was its occupant than Mr. Tilley, since a man's house is
really but his larger body, and expresses in a way his nature and
character.
I went up the field, following the smooth little path to the
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