|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Love Songs by Sara Teasdale:
But oh, it was my third love
Who gave my soul to me.
But Not to Me
The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
But not to me.
My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be;
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
But not to me.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Some Reminiscences by Joseph Conrad:
sufficient approach to verisimilitude, and the ghastly business
went on. You must understand that the scheme of the test he was
applying to me was, I gathered, a homeward passage--the sort of
passage I would not wish to my bitterest enemy. That imaginary
ship seemed to labour under a most comprehensive curse. It's no
use enlarging on these never-ending misfortunes; suffice it to
say that long before the end I would have welcomed with gratitude
an opportunity to exchange into the "Flying Dutchman." Finally
he shoved me into the North Sea (I suppose) and provided me with
a lee-shore with outlying sandbanks--the Dutch coast presumably.
Distance, eight miles. The evidence of such implacable animosity
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from A Collection of Beatrix Potter by Beatrix Potter:
looked about him--he found himself in a
place that he had never seen before, although
he had lived all his life in the house.
It was a very small stuffy fusty room,
with boards, and rafters, and cobwebs, and
lath and plaster.
Opposite to him--as far away as he could
sit--was an enormous rat.
"What do you mean by tumbling into
my bed all covered with smuts?" said the
rat, chattering his teeth.