| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from New Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson: A thousand cross-roads seek the day;
And, hid from us, to left and right,
A thousand seekers seek the light.
AWAY WITH FUNERAL MUSIC
AWAY with funeral music - set
The pipe to powerful lips -
The cup of life's for him that drinks
And not for him that sips.
TO SYDNEY
NOT thine where marble-still and white
Old statues share the tempered light
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from An International Episode by Henry James: is an ideal place. I don't know anything like it anywhere.
Captain Littledale told me he didn't know anything like it anywhere.
It's entirely different from most watering places;
it's a most charming life. I must say I think that when one
goes to a foreign country one ought to enjoy the differences.
Of course there are differences, otherwise what did one come
abroad for? Look for your pleasure in the differences,
Lord Lambeth; that's the way to do it; and then I am sure
you will find American society--at least Newport society--
most charming and most interesting. I wish very much my
husband were here; but he's dreadfully confined to New York.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Time Machine by H. G. Wells: long day. It was as sweet and fair a view as I have ever seen.
The sun had already gone below the horizon and the west was
flaming gold, touched with some horizontal bars of purple and
crimson. Below was the valley of the Thames, in which the river
lay like a band of burnished steel. I have already spoken of the
great palaces dotted about among the variegated greenery, some in
ruins and some still occupied. Here and there rose a white or
silvery figure in the waste garden of the earth, here and there
came the sharp vertical line of some cupola or obelisk. There
were no hedges, no signs of proprietary rights, no evidences of
agriculture; the whole earth had become a garden.
 The Time Machine |