| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Songs of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: - See, rather, London, on thy bridge
The pale battalions trample by,
Resolved to slay, resigned to die.
Count, rather, all the maimed and dead
In the unbrotherly war of bread.
See, rather, under sultrier skies
What vegetable Londons rise,
And teem, and suffer without sound:
Or in your tranquil garden ground,
Contented, in the falling gloom,
Saunter and see the roses bloom.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne: to the mainland, was no other than a foot-path. It straggled
onward into the mystery of the primeval forest. This hemmed it
in so narrowly, and stood so black and dense on either side, and
disclosed such imperfect glimpses of the sky above, that, to
Hester's mind, it imaged not amiss the moral wilderness in which
she had so long been wandering. The day was chill and sombre.
Overhead was a gray expanse of cloud, slightly stirred, however,
by a breeze; so that a gleam of flickering sunshine might now and
then be seen at its solitary play along the path. This flitting
cheerfulness was always at the further extremity of some long
vista through the forest. The sportive sunlight -- feebly
The Scarlet Letter |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy: white waste, and hearing only the whistle of the wind about the
horse's ears and his coat collar.
Suddenly a dark patch showed up in front of him. His heart
beat with joy, and he rode towards the object, already seeing
in imagination the walls of village houses. But the dark patch
was not stationary, it kept moving; and it was not a village
but some tall stalks of wormwood sticking up through the snow
on the boundary between two fields, and desperately tossing
about under the pressure of the wind which beat it all to one
side and whistled through it. The sight of that wormwood
tormented by the pitiless wind made Vasili Andreevich shudder,
Master and Man |
