| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Aeneid by Virgil: Such length of years, such various perils past,
At last escap'd, to Latium we repair,
To beg what you without your want may spare:
The common water, and the common air;
Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes,
Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods.
Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace,
Nor length of time our gratitude efface.
Besides, what endless honor you shall gain,
To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train!
Now, by my sov'reign, and his fate, I swear,
Aeneid |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: off from their own class by the brooding, obstinate, shut-up nature of
Sir Geoffrey, their father, whom they ridiculed, but whom they were so
sensitive about.
The three had said they would all live together always. But now Herbert
was dead, and Sir Geoffrey wanted Clifford to marry. Sir Geoffrey
barely mentioned it: he spoke very little. But his silent, brooding
insistence that it should be so was hard for Clifford to bear up
against.
But Emma said No! She was ten years older than Clifford, and she felt
his marrying would be a desertion and a betrayal of what the young ones
of the family had stood for.
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Witch, et. al by Anton Chekhov: I dare say. Oh, tut, tut. We live comfortably; we have plenty of
everything. We celebrated your wedding properly, in good style;
your father says it came to two thousand. In fact we live like
merchants, only it's dreary. We treat the people very badly. My
heart aches, my dear; how we treat them, my goodness! Whether we
exchange a horse or buy something or hire a labourer -- it's
cheating in everything. Cheating and cheating. The Lenten oil in
the shop is bitter, rancid, the people have pitch that is better.
But surely, tell me pray, couldn't we sell good oil?"
"Every man to his job, mamma."
"But you know we all have to die? Oy, oy, really you ought to
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