| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: to get this over. I'm in a hurry. I've work to do this morning--see?"
Jonathan was gone before Stanley had finished. "Pass, friend!" said the
bass voice gently, and he slid away through the water with scarcely a
ripple...But curse the fellow! He'd ruined Stanley's bathe. What an
unpractical idiot the man was! Stanley struck out to sea again, and then
as quickly swam in again, and away he rushed up the beach. He felt
cheated.
Jonathan stayed a little longer in the water. He floated, gently moving
his hands like fins, and letting the sea rock his long, skinny body. It
was curious, but in spite of everything he was fond of Stanley Burnell.
True, he had a fiendish desire to tease him sometimes, to poke fun at him,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Woman and Labour by Olive Schreiner: industry not having taken its place, she bedecked and scented her person,
or had it bedecked and scented for her, she lay upon her sofa, or drove or
was carried out in her vehicle, and, loaded with jewels, she sought by
dissipations and amusements to fill up the inordinate blank left by the
lack of productive activity. And as the hand whitened and frame softened,
till, at last, the very duties of motherhood, which were all the
constitution of her life left her, became distasteful, and, from the
instant when her infant came damp from her womb, it passed into the hands
of others, to be tended and reared by them; and from youth to age her
offspring often owed nothing to her personal toil. In many cases so
complete was her enervation, that at last the very joy of giving life, the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Woman of No Importance by Oscar Wilde: English home.
LADY HUNSTANTON. It would do him a great deal of good, dear. Most
women in London, nowadays, seem to furnish their rooms with nothing
but orchids, foreigners, and French novels. But here we have the
room of a sweet saint. Fresh natural flowers, books that don't
shock one, pictures that one can look at without blushing.
MRS. ALLONBY. But I like blushing.
LADY HUNSTANTON. Well, there IS a good deal to be said for
blushing, if one can do it at the proper moment. Poor dear
Hunstanton used to tell me I didn't blush nearly often enough. But
then he was so very particular. He wouldn't let me know any of his
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