| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll: wrapped up in the book!"
"Suppose oo shuts the book?" Bruno suggested.
"That's it!" cried the delighted Professor. "Of course that'll do it!"
And he shut up the book so quickly that he caught the Other Professor's
nose between the leaves, and gave it a severe pinch.
The Other Professor instantly rose to his feet, and carried the book
away to the end of the room, where he put it back in its place in the
book-case. "I've been reading for eighteen hours and three-quarters,"
he said, "and now I shall rest for fourteen minutes and a half.
Is the Lecture all ready?"
"Very nearly, "the Professor humbly replied. "I shall ask you to give
Sylvie and Bruno |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Verses 1889-1896 by Rudyard Kipling: With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell
and the head of the gallows-tree.
The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat --
Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.
He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly,
Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai,
Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back,
And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack.
He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.
"Ye shoot like a soldier," Kamal said. "Show now if ye can ride."
It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dustdevils go,
Verses 1889-1896 |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The American by Henry James: Life had been for him an open game, and he had played for high stakes.
He had won at last and carried off his winnings; and now what was
he to do with them? He was a man to whom, sooner or later, the question
was sure to present itself, and the answer to it belongs to our story.
A vague sense that more answers were possible than his philosophy
had hitherto dreamt of had already taken possession of him, and it
seemed softly and agreeably to deepen as he lounged in this brilliant
corner of Paris with his friend.
"I must confess," he presently went on, "that here I don't feel at all smart.
My remarkable talents seem of no use. I feel as simple as a little child,
and a little child might take me by the hand and lead me about."
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