| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence: rains.
I am assiduously, admirably looked after by Mrs Bolton. She is a queer
specimen. The more I live, the more I realize what strange creatures
human beings are. Some of them might Just as well have a hundred legs,
like a centipede, or six, like a lobster. The human consistency and
dignity one has been led to expect from one's fellow-men seem actually
nonexistent. One doubts if they exist to any startling degree even is
oneself.
The scandal of the keeper continues and gets bigger like a snowball.
Mrs Bolton keeps me informed. She reminds me of a fish which, though
dumb, seems to be breathing silent gossip through its gills, while ever
Lady Chatterley's Lover |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Voyage to Abyssinia by Father Lobo: workmanship, such as cases of boxes, a standish, and some
earthenware, together with several pieces of painted calico, which
were so much more agreeable, that he desired some other pieces
instead of our Chinese curiosities; we willingly made the exchange.
Yet some time afterwards he asked again for those Chinese goods
which he had returned us, nor was it in our power to refuse them. I
was here in danger of losing my life by a compliment which the
Portuguese paid the prince of a discharge of twelve muskets; one
being unskilfully charged too high, flew out of the soldier's hand,
and falling against my leg, wounded it very much; we had no surgeon
with us, so that all I could do was to bind it hard with some cloth.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Just Folks by Edgar A. Guest: Weaving garlands for our lassies, whispering love songs in the trees,
Painting scenes of gorgeous splendor, canvases no man could brush,
Changing scenes from early morning till the sunset's crimson flush.
June is here, the month of blossoms, month of roses white and red,
Wet with dew and perfume-laden, nodding wheresoe'er we tread;
Come the bees to gather honey, all the lazy afternoon;
Flowers and lassies, men and meadows, love alike the month of June.
Month of love and month of sunshine, month of happiness and song,
Month that cheers the sad wayfarer as he plods the road along;
Spreading out a velvet carpet, green and yellow, for his feet,
And affording for his rest hours many a cool and sweet retreat.
Just Folks |
