| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from 'Twixt Land & Sea by Joseph Conrad: small eye nearly closed and her face all drawn up on that side as
if with a twinge of toothache, she stepped out on the verandah, sat
down in a rocking-chair some distance away, and took up her
knitting from a little table. Before she started at it she plunged
one of the needles into the mop of her grey hair and stirred it
vigorously.
Her elementary nightgown-sort of frock clung to her ancient,
stumpy, and floating form. She wore white cotton stockings and
flat brown velvet slippers. Her feet and ankles were obtrusively
visible on the foot-rest. She began to rock herself slightly,
while she knitted. I had resumed my seat and kept quiet, for I
'Twixt Land & Sea |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from In the South Seas by Robert Louis Stevenson: name in case any of my readers should share with me that memory -
Dr. Paul, of the West Kirk. Almost at the first word I was sure it
was my architect, and in a moment we were deep in a discussion of
Hatiheu church. Brother Michel spoke always of his labours with a
twinkle of humour, underlying which it was possible to spy a
serious pride, and the change from one to another was often very
human and diverting. 'ET VOS GARGOUILLES MOYEN-AGE,' cried I;
'COMME ELLES SONT ORIGINATES!' 'N'EST-CE PAS? ELLES SONT BIEN
DROLES!' he said, smiling broadly; and the next moment, with a
sudden gravity: 'CEPENDANT IL Y EN A UNE QUI A UNE PATTE DE CASSE;
IL FAUT QUE JE VOIE CELA.' I asked if he had any model - a point
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence: over her face pitifully. Now again she loved him deeply. He was tender
and beautiful.
"The rain!" he said.
"Yes--is it coming on you?"
She put her hands over him, on his hair, on his shoulders, to feel
if the raindrops fell on him. She loved him dearly. He, as he lay
with his face on the dead pine-leaves, felt extraordinarily quiet.
He did not mind if the raindrops came on him: he would have lain
and got wet through: he felt as if nothing mattered, as if his
living were smeared away into the beyond, near and quite lovable.
This strange, gentle reaching-out to death was new to him.
Sons and Lovers |
