| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Melmoth Reconciled by Honore de Balzac: humblest of prayers lurked in the eyes that saw with such dreadful
clearness. His power was the measure of his anguish. His body was
bowed down by the fearful storm that shook his soul, as the tall pines
bend before the blast. Like his predecessor, he could not refuse to
bear the burden of life; he was afraid to die while he bore the yoke
of hell. The torment grew intolerable.
At last, one morning, he bethought himself how that Melmoth (now among
the blessed) had made the proposal of an exchange, and how that he had
accepted it; others, doubtless, would follow his example; for in an
age proclaimed, by the inheritors of the eloquence of the Fathers of
the Church, to be fatally indifferent to religion, it should be easy
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Richard III by William Shakespeare: QUEEN ELIZABETH. Kind sister, thanks; we'll enter
all together.
Enter BRAKENBURY
And in good time, here the lieutenant comes.
Master Lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
How doth the Prince, and my young son of York?
BRAKENBURY. Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
I may not suffer you to visit them.
The King hath strictly charg'd the contrary.
QUEEN ELIZABETH. The King! Who's that?
BRAKENBURY. I mean the Lord Protector.
Richard III |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Golden Threshold by Sarojini Naidu: Leonardo da Vinci, 'curiosity and the desire of beauty'?"
It was the desire of beauty that made her a poet; her "nerves of
delight" were always quivering at the contact of beauty. To
those who knew her in England, all the life of the tiny figure
seemed to concentrate itself in the eyes; they turned towards
beauty as the sunflower turns towards the sun, opening wider and
wider until one saw nothing but the eyes.
She was dressed always in clinging dresses of Eastern silk, and
as she was so small, and her long black hair hung straight down
her back, you might have taken her for a child. She spoke
little, and in a low voice, like gentle music; and she seemed,
|
