| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Second Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling: food. But my stomach is heavy, and I have given very bad talk
to Bagheera and others, people of the Jungle and my people.
Now, too, I am hot and now I am cold, and now I am neither hot
nor cold, but angry with that which I cannot see. Huhu! It is
time to make a running! To-night I will cross the ranges; yes,
I will make a spring running to the Marshes of the North, and
back again. I have hunted too easily too long. The Four shall
come with me, for they grow as fat as white grubs."
He called, but never one of the Four answered. They were far
beyond earshot, singing over the spring songs--the Moon and
Sambhur Songs-- with the wolves of the pack; for in the spring-
The Second Jungle Book |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Glaucus/The Wonders of the Shore by Charles Kingsley: maids.
So they passed by in their joy, like a dream, on the murmuring
ripple."
Such a rhapsody may be somewhat out of order, even in a popular
scientific book; and yet one cannot help at moments envying the old
Greek imagination, which could inform the soulless sea-world with a
human life and beauty. For, after all, star-fishes and sea-
anemones are dull substitutes for Sirens and Tritons; the lamps of
the sea-nymphs, those glorious phosphorescent medusae whose beauty
Mr. Gosse sets forth so well with pen and pencil, are not as
attractive as the sea-nymphs themselves would be; and who would
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from American Notes by Rudyard Kipling: a field of aching, snowy lime rolled in sheets, twisted into
knots, riven with rents, and diamonds, and stars, stretching for
more than half a mile in every direction.
On this place of despair lay most of the big, bad geysers who
know when there is trouble in Krakatoa, who tell the pines when
there is a cyclone on the Atlantic seaboard, and who are
exhibited to visitors under pretty and fanciful names.
The first mound that I encountered belonged to a goblin who was
splashing in his tub.
I heard him kick, pull a shower-bath on his shoulders, gasp,
crack his joints, and rub himself down with a towel; then he let
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