| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Vailima Prayers & Sabbath Morn by Robert Louis Stevenson: for Christ's sake.
FOR GRACE
GRANT that we here before Thee may be set free from the fear of
vicissitude and the fear of death, may finish what remains before
us of our course without dishonour to ourselves or hurt to others,
and, when the day comes, may die in peace. Deliver us from fear
and favour: from mean hopes and cheap pleasures. Have mercy on
each in his deficiency; let him be not cast down; support the
stumbling on the way, and give at last rest to the weary.
AT MORNING
THE day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer: How Smith got me through the trap I do not know--nor how we made our way
through the smoke and flames of the narrow passage it opened upon.
My next recollection is of sitting up, with my friend's arm supporting
me and Inspector Ryman holding a glass to my lips.
A bright glare dazzled my eyes. A crowd surged about us,
and a clangor and shouting drew momentarily nearer.
"It's the engines coming," explained Smith, seeing my bewilderment.
"Shen-Yan's is in flames. It was your shot, as you fell through the trap,
broke the oil-lamp."
"Is everybody out?"
"So far as we know."
The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Salome by Oscar Wilde: on dirait qu'il y a un oiseau, un grand oiseau noir, qui plane sur
la terrasse. Pourquoi est-ce que je ne peux pas le voir, cet
oiseau? Le battement de ses ailes est terrible. Le vent qui vient
de ses ailes est terrible. C'est un vent froid . . . Mais non, il
ne fait pas froid du tout. Au contraire, il fait tres chaud. Il
fait trop chaud. J'etouffe. Versez-moi l'eau sur les mains.
Donnez-moi de la neige e manger. Degrafez mon manteau. Vite, vite,
degrafez mon manteau . . . Non. Laissez-le. C'est ma couronne qui
me fait mal, ma couronne de roses. On dirait que ces fleurs sont
faites de feu. Elles ont brule mon front. [Il arrache de sa tete
la couronne, et la jette sur la table.] Ah! enfin, je respire.
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