| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: 'It's no great matter,' he said, in answer to the locksmith's
sympathising look, 'a mere uneasiness arising at least as much from
being cooped up here, as from the slight wound I have, or from the
loss of blood. Be seated, Mr Varden.'
'If I may make so bold, Mr Edward, as to lean upon your chair,'
returned the locksmith, accommodating his action to his speech, and
bending over him, 'I'll stand here for the convenience of speaking
low. Barnaby is not in his quietest humour to-night, and at such
times talking never does him good.'
They both glanced at the subject of this remark, who had taken a
seat on the other side of the fire, and, smiling vacantly, was
Barnaby Rudge |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Men of Iron by Howard Pyle: Myles withstood his look calmly and impassively, and presently
the Earl turned on his heel, and strode to the open window. A
long time passed in silence while he stood there, gazing out of
the window into the garden beyond with his back to the young man.
Suddenly he swung around again. "Sir Myles," said he, "the family
of Falworth is as good as any in Derbyshire. Just now it is poor
and fallen in estate, but if it is again placed in credit and
honor, thou, who art the son of the house, shalt have thy suit
weighed with as much respect and consideration as though thou
wert my peer in all things, Such is my answer. Art thou
satisfied?"
Men of Iron |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Virginibus Puerisque by Robert Louis Stevenson: become yourself a literary innovator? For even in love there
are unlovely humours; ambiguous acts, unpardonable words, may
yet have sprung from a kind sentiment. If the injured one
could read your heart, you may be sure that he would
understand and pardon; but, alas! the heart cannot be shown -
it has to be demonstrated in words. Do you think it is a hard
thing to write poetry? Why, that is to write poetry, and of a
high, if not the highest, order.
I should even more admire "the lifelong and heroic
literary labours" of my fellow-men, patiently clearing up in
words their loves and their contentions, and speaking their
|
