|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from From London to Land's End by Daniel Defoe:
country way of expressing themselves, is not easily understood--it
is so strangely altered. It is true that it is so in many parts of
England besides, but in none in so gross a degree as in this part.
This way of boorish country speech, as in Ireland it is called the
"brogue" upon the tongue, so here it is called "jouring;" and it is
certain that though the tongue be all mere natural English, yet
those that are but a little acquainted with them cannot understand
one-half of what they say. It is not possible to explain this
fully by writing, because the difference is not so much in the
orthography of words as in the tone and diction--their abridging
the speech, "cham" for "I am," "chil" for "I will," "don" for "put
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad:
The tumult of angry and warlike yells was checked instantly,
and then from the depths of the woods went out such a tremulous
and prolonged wail of mournful fear and utter despair as may be
imagined to follow the flight of the last hope from the earth.
There was a great commotion in the bush; the shower of arrows stopped,
a few dropping shots rang out sharply--then silence, in which
the languid beat of the stern-wheel came plainly to my ears.
I put the helm hard a-starboard at the moment when the pilgrim
in pink pyjamas, very hot and agitated, appeared in the doorway.
`The manager sends me--' he began in an official tone, and stopped short.
`Good God!' he said, glaring at the wounded man.
Heart of Darkness
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poems by T. S. Eliot:
Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."
Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt,
And lived in a small house near a fashionable square
Cared for by servants to the number of four.
Now when she died there was silence in heaven
And silence at her end of the street.
The shutters were drawn and the undertaker wiped his feet--
He was aware that this sort of thing had occurred before.