| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ten Years Later by Alexandre Dumas: straight down the path indicated. The thing was easy; the
tops of those noble trees, already covered with leaves and
flowers, rose above all the rest.
On arriving under the lozenges, by turns luminous and dark,
which checkered the ground of this path according as the
trees were more or less in leaf, the young prince perceived
a gentleman walking with his arms behind him, apparently
plunged in a deep meditation. Without doubt, he had often
had this gentleman described to him, for, without
hesitating, Charles II. walked straight up to him. At the
sound of his footsteps, the Comte de la Fere raised his
 Ten Years Later |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte: either too angry or too distressed to answer what I sent him.
Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is
you.
Inform Edgar that I'd give the world to see his face again - that
my heart returned to Thrushcross Grange in twenty-four hours after
I left it, and is there at this moment, full of warm feelings for
him, and Catherine! I CAN'T FOLLOW IT THOUGH - (these words are
underlined) - they need not expect me, and they may draw what
conclusions they please; taking care, however, to lay nothing at
the door of my weak will or deficient affection.
The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask
 Wuthering Heights |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Figure in the Carpet by Henry James: man. It gave me confidence for a day or two - then that confidence
dropped. I had fancied him reading it with relish, but if Corvick
wasn't satisfied how could Vereker himself be? I reflected indeed
that the heat of the admirer was sometimes grosser even than the
appetite of the scribe. Corvick at all events wrote me from Paris
a little ill-humouredly. Mrs. Erme was pulling round, and I hadn't
at all said what Vereker gave him the sense of.
CHAPTER II
THE effect of my visit to Bridges was to turn me out for more
profundity. Hugh Vereker, as I saw him there, was of a contact so
void of angles that I blushed for the poverty of imagination
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